To Heal New Wounds
by AW Science Geek
Summary: All has been well for the Golden Trio in the last 15 years, but a sudden disaster destroys their peace of mind. Will Hermione find love ever again, and will Draco finally get the girl of his dreams? Can the Gryffindors and Slytherins overcome their prejudices to solve the mystery that destroyed their loved ones? Starts right where the epilogue left off, except changes 19 yrs to 15.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I'm going to be consistent with the Epilogue with everything except the date. Honestly, I could work with Draco and Hermione's age in 2017, but I just find them a little too old for my liking and letting them have a passionate romance seems a little unrealistic. Change 19 years to 15, since we'll let Draco marry Astoria and have Scorpius right away, so that gives me four years to work up a back story and fit in my prequel that will be coming soon!**

Chapter 1

"_The scar had not pained Harry for fifteen years. All was well."_

Draco watched the Golden Trio as the Hogwarts train slowly chugged its way out of the station, a long wisp of smoke and steam trailing after it. He glanced at Blaise and Alexandra Zabini, quite near the Trio, but was distracted by Astoria's tugging on his sleeve.  
"Come on, Draco, let's go home," she murmured.

He nodded stiffly, throwing one more backwards glance at the three former Gryffindors. He and Astoria began making their way towards the exit when there was a sudden commotion at the far end of the platform. He paused, and Astoria gave him a queer look.

"What's that over there?" he asked her, pointing to the far end.

She shrugged, but as she turned to look, the platform erupted in screams, followed by a maniacal cackle. Draco froze, he knew that laugh, and it was extremely bad news. Draco reacted quickly, dragging Astoria behind him and lunging towards the former Gryffindors.

"Draco!" Astoria gasped. "The exit is the other way!"

"I know!" he growled.

"Then what in Merlin's name-!"

The platform was in a huge commotion, people swarming and screaming towards the exit. There were loud cracks of apparition, but he didn't stop until the Trio was in his sights. He cursed at their stupidity. Really, for the brightest witch of their age, the boy-who-wouldn't-fucking-die, and the Weasel, couldn't they see they were in danger? They were the heroes of the Second Wizarding War for Merlin's sake! He grabbed Hermione's wrist, causing her to squeak in fright. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

"Malfoy? What are you-"

"You need to get out of here. _NOW!_" he stressed. "Take your son and apparate. He's out to get you, specifically, so GO!" he pushed her.

Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron were all staring at him, with a million questions in their eyes, but he snarled at them. "Do you all want to die? Get out of here!"

"Ginny, take Hermione and the kids back to Grim- I mean home," Harry stated, not taking his eyes off of Astoria. She nodded, and grabbed hold of Hugo and Lily, motioning for Hermione to hold her hand.

"No, I'm not going yet. Just go Ginny!" Hermione commanded, glaring at the ginger witch. Ginny looked torn, but did as Hermione said, sounding a loud crack. Draco swore.

"Granger, you need to go!"

Ron growled at this. "It's Weasley now!"

She crossed her arms stubbornly. "Not until I find out who is causing such a ruckus and what it has to do with me!" she glared at Draco, pulling out her wand.

The source of all the commotion broke through the thinning crowd, searching for the Golden Trio, and found them. Wand out and threatening, a very maniacal-looking Marcus Flint narrowed his eyes at the group and snarled. Pansy Parkinson, or by now, Pansy Flint, also broke out of the crowd, screaming at the crazed man.

"Marc! Listen to me! Come back here this _instant_!" she cried shrilly. "You're not in your right mind, dear, come back to me!"

He laughed cruelly, glaring heatedly at her, and stupefied his own wife. She fell to the ground, leaving everyone, including Draco, absolutely shocked. They weren't exactly the best couple around, but everyone knew that the two were actually extremely devoted to each other. Astoria broke away from Draco's grasp, and rushed over to Pansy's side. Luckily, Flint turned his attention and anger away from Astoria and back to the odd combination of adults: the Malfoys, the Potters, and the Weasleys.

"What the hell is your problem, Flint?" shouted Blaise Zabini, holding onto his wife, Alexandra, coming up behind Marcus. Alexandra gently bent down and rennervated Pansy, calming Astoria. Daphne Nott, seeing her sister, shoved her way through the crowd, her husband Theodore coming behind her.

"That _Mudblood_ is my problem," snarled Flint, eyes glinting maliciously. "She's ruined me, my family, my home, my job, everything! She _murdered_ my children!"

Hermione paled at the word murder, but narrowed her eyes. "W-what do you mean? What did I do?" she exclaimed, becoming more distraught. "I've never even come into contact with you since Hogwarts! I would _never_ murder _any_ child!"

"I saw you," Flint growled, and Ron stepped in front of Hermione to protect her. "You're the key, you filthy _Mudblood_. I saw the future. You're the fucking key. You bring her back. You bring him back. But you abandon my children, you let them die! You KILLED them! You MURDERER!" he screamed, gesturing wildly with his wand, sending a stray spell towards Astoria, knocking her down and into Pansy.

"Astoria!" Draco and Daphne cried in unison, Draco rushing to her side. Hermione moved to help, but froze when she heard-

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Flint screamed at Hermione, but Ron shoved her to the ground. She barely had time to look up, seeing the green flash of light hit him squarely in the chest.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" shouted Alexandra, catching Flint's wand.

"STUPEFY!" screamed Harry and Blaise simultaneously.

"RON!" Hermione cried. "NO! RON! NO!" she screamed, hugging his lifeless body. "RON!" she sobbed, clawing at his clothes, searching for any pulse, any sign of life.

"GET HER OUT OF HERE!" Draco screamed at Harry, who nodded and screamed at the gathered mixed Slytherins and Gryffindors to meet at his home; surprisingly, most of the people gathered had been to his home previously, for he had developed friendships with many of them after the war. Harry grabbed Hermione and Ron's body, apparating to his living room in 12 Grimmauld Place.

Hermione was still sobbing, crumpled on the ground next to her deceased husband. Blaise and Alexandra came shortly after, mentioning that Flint was now being detained and interrogated by other Aurors. Harry nodded numbly, through his tears, and heard Ginny rushing into the room. Pansy and Theodore apparated into the living room, hearing Ginny scream as she saw her brother's body.

"Oh Ron, no, no, no, oh Ron, please don't be..." Ginny trailed off. She met Harry's watery green eyes, and crumpled next to Hermione.

Harry tried to speak, but finding how raw his voice was, cleared his throat to try again. "Theo, where's Daphne, Astoria, and Malfoy?"

"They've gone to St. Mungo's. Astoria was hit with some wordless curse, and they can't figure out what it was," Theo sighed. "I expect Daphne and Draco will be joining us soon, once they get Astoria settled in. I believe Draco owes Hermione some answers."

Harry nodded, avoiding looking at Hermione or Ginny, and squared his jaw. Tears were flowing freely, around the room. Pansy started sobbing, and Theo gently embraced her.

"This wasn't him. It's not him. He's so messed up, I thought seeing Fiona off to Hogwarts would be normal, but it's not. Ron's dead because of me! It's all my fault, my fault! I should have kept him at home! I thought he'd be okay! I murdered Ron! I killed him!" she ranted.

"Pansy, it wasn't your fault!" Alex said sternly. Theo and Blaise nodded.

Hermione looked up and inhaled sharply. Bleary eyed, she shakily crawled to Pansy, and grasped her hand. "Pansy," Hermione rasped. "Pansy, _Pansy!_ Look at me! It's not your fault. It never was, never is and never will be. Your husband needs help, but it's never your fault. Don't you dare blame this on yourself."

Pansy sniffled, and smeared her mascara while wiping away her tears. "Thanks...Hermione. I needed that." The use of Hermione's first name did not go unnoticed by the others in the room.

"Mummy?" called Hugo, stumbling sleepily into the living room. All of the adults froze at the red-headed child's entrance. "Where's Daddy? Is Rosie here?"

Hermione swallowed, and licked her dry lips. A wave of new tears rolled down her cheeks as she took in the image of her miniature husband. "Hu...Hugo, dear, I need you to come here," she stuttered. "Rosie's not here at the moment, she's at Hogwarts, you remember? We dr-dropped her off at the train station."

Hugo crawled into his mother's lap, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Mummy, why are you crying? Are you sad?"

Hermione hugged him tightly to her chest. "Mummy is a little sad, dear. I'm so sorry Hugo, but Daddy's going to be sleeping for a while."

Hugo pulled away from the embrace to look at her. "Daddy's sleeping? Why is Mummy sad? He always sleeps. And snores," Hugo added, wrinkling his nose in disgust. A few of the adults chuckled weakly at the comment, but a few of the Slytherins got up and left the Gryffindors to their moment.

"Your Daddy's not going to wake up though, honey. He's sleeping and he's gone away to a palace in the sky. He loves you very much, Hugo, you know that, right?" Hugo's eyes widened as he began to grasp the situation.

"So I can't talk to him anymore?" he asked sadly.

"No, honey. He'll be watching us still, and I'm sure he misses us dearly."

"But he promised to teach me quidditch this summer! He promised!" Hugo began to wail.

"Shhh! Hush, dear. I know, I know." Hermione cradled him as tears began to fall down Hugo's cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Hugo, I'm so sorry."

"Why did he go, Mummy?" Hugo wailed, and the grief he held broke her heart.

"It was his time to leave, I guess. Sometimes it comes during the worst times possible, Hugo, but he needs to go to sleep now."

"Daddy!" Hugo cried, and pushed his way out of Hermione's arms and crawled over to his father. "Daddy! Wake up! You promised! You _promised!_"

"He's not waking up, Hugo. I'm so sorry, but he's not waking up," sobbed Hermione.

Hugo sniffled, his anger suddenly receding. "Now I know why you're sad, Mummy."

A crack of apparition was heard, and a very depressed looking Draco Malfoy and Daphne Nott appeared in the living room.

The adults looked up, and some of the Slytherins poked their heads back into the living room. Draco glanced at Ron's body, a muscle working in his jaw. It was utterly silent in the room, save a few sniffles.

Alex moved into the room, quietly pushing Draco and Daphne down onto a few chairs.

"How's Astoria?" asked Alex, tilting Draco's face up to meet her eyes.

Draco clenched his jaw, but his eyes softened fractionally as he stared into Alex's brown eyes.

"They have no idea what the spell was that hit her. It was rather... shall we say... _unconventional_" Draco gritted out from between his teeth. "Until they can figure out what it was, there's not much of a chance to save her."

"Is she conscious?" Harry asked quietly.

"No, she's in a coma-like trance," sniffled Daphne. Theodore enveloped her in a hug.

Everyone fell into an awkward silence.

Harry stood up, constantly fidgeting with his glasses as everyone looked at him.

"I...I think we need to..." Harry gulped, not wanting to continue his train of thought.

"Just spit it out, Potter," Draco said tiredly.

"...Well, I think we need to take care of...Ron. We can't exactly leave him here in my living room."

"I'll... apparate him to the funeral home," Hermione said shakily.

Alex and Draco looked at each other. "I don't think that's... a good idea, Hermione," Alex said quietly.

"And why the bloody hell can't I take care of his body, Alex?" Hermione snapped.

"Because, _Granger_, if Flint had any other _friends_ who'd like you dead, if you go waltzing out into public, this time _Weasley_ won't be there to save you!" Draco snapped back, equally infuriated.

"I think I'm perfectly capable of handling myself, thank you very much! I didn't survive a bloody war without any skill whatsoever!" shouted Hermione.

Draco looked like he was about to argue back, but Alex stepped in before the argument could go further. "Hermione! No one's doubting your abilities. We trust you, we just don't trust _them_," reasoned Alex. "Now this is doing no one any good. Hermione, Blaise and I will apparate him over and come right back. We can discuss other things later," she spoke with a tone that brooked no argument. Everyone also understood her silent meaning. Other things really meant funeral preparations, and everyone cringed.

Hermione slumped her shoulders, defeated. Ginny fiercely gripped Hermione in a hug, distracting her as Blaise and Alex left with Ron's body. The crack of apparation inspired a fresh wave of tears, but her sobbing subsided after a few minutes. When Blaise and Alex returned, everyone was passing around tea, hoping to calm themselves before taking any further steps. Harry had owled Neville and Hannah, and Ginny floo-called Luna and Rolf. Both couples were extremely close friends with the Potters and Weasleys and were expected to appear at any moment. Hugo had dropped off to sleep, and Hermione carried him back to James's and Albus's room, which was exceedingly bare since their leaving to Hogwarts.

When she returned to the living room, the quiet conversations in the room stopped, waiting until she sat down.

"Hermione, would you like some tea?" asked Daphne. Hermione gave her a small smile.

"That would be just lovely, Daphne. Thank you."

Draco cleared his throat, and looked at Hermione and Alex meaningfully. "Granger, I believe I owe you some answers. Actually, I owe everyone answers." Just at that moment, Luna and Rolf appeared, as well as Neville and Hannah.

Neville surveyed the room, but narrowed his eyes at Draco in surprise. "What's Malfoy doing here?"

Hermione glanced at Ginny and Harry, who shrugged. "I believe he's just about to explain that. Please sit down."

Harry looked at Ginny, and asked the room at large, "Do you all think we should call over the rest of the Weasleys? It might save some explaining later, and we have yet to tell them... about Ron."

Alex looked at Harry sorrowfully and watched as Ginny buried her head in Harry's shoulder. "Blaise and I sent patronuses out to their family when we went... out. It's up to Draco if he wants to explain with everyone here or just us."

Draco sighed. "Later, I just can't face any more people." Everyone in the room nodded solemnly.

"Where to begin?" Draco murmured.

"How about the beginning?" Alex asked, smiling sadly.

"It's a long story..."

"We have time Draco, best explain to some of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws what happened in California," Alex suggested.

"Here goes nothing..." Draco paused, before beginning his story.

"It was shortly after my trial that Zabini and I decided that we had had enough of England. We just... needed to get away, you know? By the way, thanks," Draco nodded to Harry and Hermione. "Without your testimony, I would have been done for." They smiled sadly back, urging him to continue his story.

"But anyways, my mom was off traveling after her trial, because she wanted to get away, too. My dad was at Azkaban, and I doubted that I'd do anything productive if I were to stay. Not that I needed to get a job, or anything, but I'd probably just sit around, wallowing in self-pity. Zabini found me, and he suggested we just get the hell out of here, before we both self-destruct and kill ourselves." Alex bit the inside of her cheek as he said this, and Blaise moved to bring her over to a chair. Draco hardly noticed, continuing his story.

"So we thought about different countries. Anything in Europe was just too close to home, and Australia was chancing a fateful meeting with Granger, because of her parents. The States just seemed right, they were English speaking, full of life, and on the west coast, we'd be on the other side of the world.

"So of course, we went to sunny and beautiful California, and enrolled in the University of California of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Zabini specialized in healing, and I just kind of floundered. There, we met Alex, who was in many of the same classes as Zabini, as she was specializing in healing as well. Thank goodness we did, or I might never have had the same opportunities to actually do anything. It's where the whole Medrex company started. For a few years, everything was just...utopia. We didn't have any reputations to uphold or bad memories haunting our every step. We could just be..." Draco paused and looked at Blaise, who smiled in encouragement. "just... us. That's it. No longer the rich, pureblooded Death Eaters. Just plain old Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. We could create our own path and success without having our old reputations and family names holding us back or pushing us forward. Everything was up to us, and we would enjoy our own, hard-earned success or suffer our own consequences.

"But it didn't last. Because, of course, Alex, being the incredible healer she is, was contacted by none other than the infamous Hermione Granger to help with her parents' memories. Granger came to California to meet up with Alex, and our bubble just shattered. Suddenly, someone who knew us, all of the good and especially the bad, was back in our lives, and it was quite a shock for the both of us." Harry looked curiously at Hermione, taking in this new bit of information that she had so conveniently left out.

"To say the least, it wasn't easy, forgiving each other." Alex, Blaise, and Hermione simultaneously snorted, and cracked a smile at the others. "But we got to point where we were all fairly comfortable in each other's presence, so I'd say it was pretty successful. So long as the past was left where it belonged, we got along well enough. We all traveled to Australia to help with Granger's parents, and by that time, Alex was head over heels in love with Blaise," Draco looked pointedly at the couple, "and vice versa.

"So, when Alex was successful in restoring their memories, she needed to stay with Granger's parents to make sure they were all right. She basically dragged us back here, where we continued Medrex and expanded it in England."

Draco sighed. "But coming back wasn't easy, and even though the four years we were gone helped ease some of the tension, it was still bad. Some people had even gone insane, which brings me to our attacker of the day." Hermione flinched.

"Marcus Flint has gone insane. He's been bloody psychotic for at least five years now, you remember the incident in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Control of Magical Equipment? That's where it all started. Flint was messing with some time turners, and something went wrong and he pulled a Finnegan." Hermione and a few of the other Gryffindors glared at him, though inwardly chuckling. "The incident left him completely insane. Pansy's been out of her mind, trying to care for her daughter and crazy husband. But something in all of his rants were very similar. They all pertained to you, Granger."

Hermione looked up, visibly shaken but meeting his eyes. "Do you remember what he said today?" asked Draco. Hermione shook her head.  
"Besides that fact that I murdered his children, when he only has one daughter, I don't remember anything else."

"He truly believes you killed our children, at least sometime in the future," murmured Pansy. "He says you could have saved them but didn't, and that you're the key."

"The key for what?"

"He's never really said. If he had said more, it would make more sense, but he's only giving us a small portion of whatever he's going on about," sighed Pansy.

Harry cleared his throat nervously, and everyone turned to look at him. "So let me get this straight, you lot knew each other and were civil to one another, which _Hermione_conveniently forgot to tell me," he glared at Hermione, who shrugged her shoulders and looked at her feet. "And Marcus Flint's been psychotic ever since he saw "the future" during a time-turner accident, and thinks that Mione's going to kill his children."

"That pretty much sums it up, Potter," drawled Draco.

Luna tilted her head and looked at Draco curiously. "Draco, why do you call Hermione "Granger," still, if you've been friends with her for several years? You were here in England when she got married, and I believe you even attended the wedding. Better yet, why do you seem to call everyone but Alex by their surname?" Draco pinkened slightly and glared at Luna.

Alex chuckled. "Luna, you're quite good. I'll have to meet more of these Ravenclaw folks soon. For one, Draco calls everyone by their last name, and "Weasley" just didn't have the same snarly-wrath that Draco used with "Granger." There are too many Weasleys to begin with."

"And as for Alex, she was the first girl he actually liked. So she's special," Blaise smirked. Draco's cheeks reddened further.

Harry grinned. "So was Zabini just a better womanizer, or was Malfoy still too much of a ferret to get the girl?" he asked cheekily, and everyone laughed.

"Both!" laughed Alex. "It's a story for another day."

Everyone paused, sobering slightly.

Theodore asked the question on everyone's minds. "Now what?"

Hannah glanced at the clock, which read five in the afternoon. She stood up taking the reins. "Let's all eat dinner, and just let it all sink in. I think we're all too exhausted by today's events to do anything productive. Hermione and...Draco, you'll probably have to inform your children soon, preferably before the Daily Prophet catches wind of this and prints tomorrow morning. I'd suggest after a bit of a rest that you two contact the Headmistress and meet with your children in person." Both Draco and Hermione nodded numbly.

"Now, let's get going, Ginny, do you mind if we use your kitchen? I don't think any of us are planning to go anywhere else at the moment. What do you have?" asked Hannah, pulling Ginny to her feet and steering her towards the kitchen. "Daphne, Pansy, have any ideas on what you all would like to make? Alex, I know you're bloody terrible at cooking..." Everyone cracked a smile at this. "So, we'll make do without you. Hermione, Luna, coming?" Luna nodded while Hermione shook her head.

"I need to... collect myself," Hermione replied, to which Ginny nodded in understanding.

"Oi! What are us men supposed to do?" asked Harry, trying to relieve some of the tension.

"How about a game of make-shift Quidditch?" suggested Rolf. "I think some of us need to prove our worth after all these years."

"I'm sure I have a few brooms around here somewhere, let me look," added Harry, who went upstairs to peruse the broom cupboards. Draco slipped outside into the backyard, loosening his Slytherin-green tie and inhaling the fresh air deeply. A few minutes later, he heard another person's footsteps come up alongside him. He turned to see a familiar head of dark, straight black hair.

"Mind if I join you?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**AN: Wow, didn't expect to get so many followers, favorites and review already! Thanks so much everyone for your support! Disclaimer, since I forgot on the first chapter: I really don't own Harry Potter, because otherwise Alex would be a legit character and be a total boss. Oh, and Draco and Hermione would already be married with kids. But I'm getting there. Without further ado, here's the next chapter. I think I'll be alternating between the generation we all know and love and the next generation, because I just love Hogwarts as a setting.**

_Meanwhile, on the Hogwarts Express..._

"Rosie! Come in and sit with us!" shouted Albus, latching onto her hand and dragging her into their compartment. She sighed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to go anywhere without her cousin tagging along.

"Rose! Glad you could make it!" James smiled cheekily. "We haven't seen you in _ages_!" She rolled her eyes, remembering that their families had eaten dinner together only a few nights before. "Allow me to introduce you to my dear friends, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander, Alden Wood, and Zachariah Goldstein. Full name, Zachariah. Don't attempt to nickname him Zack, or you'll be hexed. Badly."

"Nice to meet you all. Lorcan and Lysander, you're Aunt Luna's sons, right?" Rose asked. The two twins nodded their heads simultaneously. "Alden...Oliver and Cho Wood's son?" Rose guessed.

"Ya got me!" Alden chirped, with a clearly Scottish accent.

"And Goldstein..." Rose paused. She held up her hand before he could speak, "I know your... dad! Anthony Goldstein! Who's your mum?"  
"Tracey, formerly Tracey Davis," he replied.

"Really? Probably one of the few couples that crossed houses, huh?" she asked.

"You really know our parents' generation well. Yeah, I get that a lot," he sighed.

A dark haired girl opened the door to their compartment. "Um, hi," she started shyly. "I was wondering if I could sit with you? I'm Araluen Zabini, but you can call me Ara."

"Come on in! I'm glad there's at least another girl here," Rose smiled at Ara. "By the way, that's a stunning name. Does it mean something?"

Ara smiled back, "It refers to a place of waterlilies in Australia. It's reminiscent of where my parents fell in love."

"Gorgeous!" Rose exclaimed. "I wish I had such a meaningful name, I mean, come on, _Rose_, how boring. I mean, I get that my mum and dad named my brother and I with the same first letters as their names, but there are so many better names that start with R! Hugo is at least interesting. Rhonda, Rihanna, Riley, Rissa, Rachel, Rebecca, even Rosalyn would add more spice... Heck, I would've been happy even with Romilda!"

"Eww, don't you remember what Uncle Ron and dad had told us about Romilda Vane?" asked Albus, scrunching up his face in disgust. "A love potion, seriously, she had _no_ class!"

"You should be one to talk, Potter," snarked a blonde boy that had suddenly appeared, leaning up against the door.

"Scorp, play nice," admonished Ara.

"Yeah yeah, Ara, I already got the lecture from Dad, I don't need you repeating it."

"Maybe it would do you well to listen to your father," Rose replied acidly.

Scorpius narrowed his eyes. Opening his mouth to retort, Ara cut him off.

"Scorp! These are my new friends, would it kill you to be kind for once?"

"It might," he grumbled, and stepped forward into the compartment. "Hi, I'm Scorpius Malfoy. Yeah, my dad was a jerk and he passed some of it onto me. So long as you don't mess with Ara here, you're good with me. Can I sit with you all?"

Not really bothering to wait for a reply, Scorpius plopped himself rather ungracefully in between Ara and Rose, who sighed and rolled her eyes. This was going to be one long train ride, she thought as Scorpius stretched and laid back leisurely, as if he owned the place.

"Of course you may," Ara quipped sarcastically. "Please, do make yourself comfortable."

"Already am," he smirked, winking at her. "Seeing that I'm sitting next to you."

"Pick up lines? Already? Man, these first years just get crazier every year!" laughed Teddy, as he poked his head in. "Everyone all right? Just wanted to check up on you all."

"It was all fine and dandy until _he_ got here," Rose jerked her head to the side to indicate a certain platinum-blonde haired boy.

"Finished snogging Victoire, yet?" James grinned. Teddy's cheeks reddened, and he glared at the raven-haired boy.

"None of your beeswax, James," he mumbled. "So, everyone's all right? I hope Malfoy's not causing too much trouble?"

"Don't worry, I'll keep him in line," smirked Ara.

"Sheesh, you're not my mum, Ara!" grouched Scorpius, but Teddy brightened immediately.

"I'm sure you'll be a prefect someday, Ara. I can already tell. Do me a favor and be a Gryffindor, allright?" Teddy called over his shoulder as he moved onto the next compartment.

"Bloody likely, her dad's a Slytherin and her mum's closer to a Slytherin or a Ravenclaw. Why would anyone want to be a Gryffindork anyways?" muttered Scorpius.

"You never know, maybe she'll choose. to be a Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat _does_ take your choice into account," Rose replied matter of factly. "I'll have you know that Harry, my mum, and my dad only sort of saved the entire wizarding world and were all, as you so eloquently put it, '_Gryffindorks.'_"

"You are _so_ Hermione Granger's daughter! Have you read _Hogwarts a History_ fifty times already?" teased Zachariah.

"No!" Rose denied vehemently.

"Well, how many times, then?" prodded Lorcan.

"Only twenty-three..." she mumbled under her breath.

Lysander grinned. "Say, Rose, we didn't quite hear you. Be a dear and repeat it a tad bit louder so we can understand?"

"You two seem as bad as Uncle George and Fred, from the stories I've heard," commented Rose, hastily changing the subject and avoiding the question. "Are you planning on turning Hogwarts into a swamp in your fifth year?" she joked.

Lorcan and Lysander looked at each other, smirking with a mischievous glint in their eyes. James, Alden, and Zachariah face-palmed.

"Roooooose, why did you _have_ to suggest such a thing!" groaned Alden.

"Now they're going to drag us into this whether we like it or not," moaned Zachariah. He glanced at James, and then rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I mean _Alden and I_ will be dragged into this. James will be more than a willing participant."

"Oh, they'll forget it by fifth year," Ara waved dismissively.

"Are you _kidding_?" asked Alden and Zachariah simultaneously.

"They seem far too Weasley-like to be the progeny of Lovegood and Scamander," commented Scorpius dryly.

"They have spend a lot of time with us," piped Albus.

The compartment fell silent, and Rose stared out the window, watching the greenery fly by. The candy cart stopped in the doorway.

"Sweets, anyone?"

"You know, I would love a couple of chocolate frogs," stated Lorcan, nudging Lysander.

"Why not a few sugar quills? I'm low on those, and I need to refill my supplies, right Alden?" Lysander replied, tugging on Alden's arm.  
As the two twins dragged both Alden and Zachariah into their argument and bickered, Rose and Ara politely refused any sweets, Rose claiming that it was likely to "rot and destroy her fantastic teeth's health," while Ara found that muggle candy was much more likeable to her taste buds. James and Albus splurged on Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, pigging out and practically inhaling the bag. Scorpius scowled, disgusted.

"Hasn't your mother taught you some basic manners?" Scorpius sniffed.

"They're part Weasley," Rose snorted. "And, they're male. What did you expect?"

Scorpius cracked a smile, and grabbed a chocolate frog off the cart and tossing the money expected. Then, the two seemed to realize that they were actually enjoying each other's company, and their smiles widened.

Eventually, fed up with Lorcan and Lysander's argument, the candy cart left abruptly, only heating the argument as the door swung shut.

"Oi!" shouted Alden. "Jus' shut yer traps!"

Everyone quieted, but Scorpius was snickering.

"How much longer?" asked Albus, boredly.

"Take a nap," snapped Scorpius. Ara smacked his arm. "What?"

"Don't order people around like you're a bitter, old, stiff git. You sound like your grandfather, for the love of sweet Circe!" she scolded.

Scorpius clenched his teeth together. "Whatever, I'm taking a nap. If no one else is, that's none of my business," he groaned, yawning. He stretched and laid down on the bench, placing his head in Ara's lap.

"Scorp! Don't you dare-" Ara warned, but was interrupted by a light snore. "Ugh." She sighed, hitting her head on the wall behind her.

After a moments pause, Rose cleared her throat. "How do you two know each other?" asked Rose.

"Our dads are best mates. My mum doesn't care for Aunt Tori, and neither do I, but my mum and our two dads founded the company they run. We've been best friends since birth," Ara replied, absentmindedly twirling a piece of Scorpius's hair.

"Does he fancy you?" Zachariah smirked.

"What? Why would he?" Ara furrowed her eyebrows.

"Clueless," murmured James.

"You've obviously got 'im whipped," winked Alden.

"Or maybe you fancy him," suggested Albus.

Ara blinked. "You're kidding me, right? He's like my brother, that's kind of disturbing. Just because we're best friends doesn't mean we're destined to get married."

"Oh, you never know, I mean take my mum and dad for an example," stated Rose. "They were best friends and fell for each other. I'm literally living proof! It could happen."

"If that does happen, then feel free to say 'I told you so,'" Ara laughed.

"I'm going to be your maid of honor, agreed?" giggled Rose.

"What houses are you guys in?" asked Albus, who was fidgeting a little nervously.

"Relax, bro," James laughed clapping him on the back. "Didn't dad give you the whole spiel on Severus Snape? Besides, with two Gryffindor parents, you're probably bound to be with me. Plus, not all of my friends are in my house, since McGonagall's been working on 'interhouse unity' ever since the second war ended."

"I'm a Ravenclaw," stated Zachariah. "Figures, my dad was a Ravenclaw, too."

"I'm a Slytherin," grinned Lysander. "And my twin bro here is a Gryffindor. How wacked up is that? My mum's a Raven, dad's a Puff, I'm a snake, and my bro's a lion. Hogwarts, represent!" he laughed, slapping his brother's hand in a high five.

"Gryffindor through an' through," smiled Alden.

"Wow. I guess I'm okay with any house, then," Albus shrugged. "I thought it would be pretty exclusive, but that doesn't seem to be the case."

"It really isn't, McGonagall's been fabulous in the changes she's made. Did you know all the seventh years have to live together in one common area? It was messy in the beginning, but people get used to it and actually become great friends in the end," replied Zachariah.

Rose's mouth hung open. The boys turned to look at her. "What, Rose?" James asked curiously.

"That's not in _Hogwarts: A History_ yet. And they just released a new edition in July and I don't remember anything about that! I'll have to write mum and ask her to write the editors for me. Seriously, they need to keep up with the times!" Rose ranted.

"Bookworm!" Lysander sing-songed.

"Duh. It's Granger's child," muttered Scorpius, who was waking up slowly.

"What house do you want to be in, Rosie?" asked Albus.

"Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, although I'm pretty much guaranteed Gryffindor," she replied, ignoring Alden's suggestive wink.

"Come snuggle with Wood in the tower, eh?" he joked.

"Actually, I might prefer spending time with Gold," she retorted. Zachariah grinned and nudged Alden.

"This Rose has got thorns!" Lorcan laughed.

Rose sighed. "How about you, Ara? What house?"

"I don't really care, so long as I'm with tolerable people."

Scorpius snorted. "I'm not sure how you put up with me, then."

James and Alden gasped. "Did the great, Scorpius Malfoy just imply that he is an intolerable, insufferable, bloody irritating git? The world is ending!"

"That was 2012, stupid," snapped Scorpius, who rolled his eyes as he sat up.

"He didn't deny it!"

"So that must mean-"

"That he agrees-"

"That he is an intolerable, insufferable,"

"And don't forget bloody irritating,"

"GIT!" Lorcan and Lysander chimed together.

Rose sighed, exasperated with the twins' antics. "You're going for Slytherin, then Malfoy?"

He gave her a look. "Duh."

James elbowed Albus. "How much you wanna bet that Ara's going to be in the same house as Malfoy?" he whispered.

"That's not fair, that's practically a guarantee!" Albus complained.

"Take it or leave it."

"Fine. Two galleons."

"Done!"

"Guys, I think we're here!" Rose exclaimed excitedly. The boys elbowed each other to peek out the window.

"Well isn't that the most-"

"Boring, same old same old-"

"View we've ever seen!" Lorcan and Lysander exchanged.

"Oh shut up!" snapped Rose, who pulled the two from their spots at the window to peer outside. The train came to a screeching halt, and the second and first years split up, both impatient for food from the Great Hall.

"Aldermaston, Kaden!" McGonagall called.

"Ravenclaw!" declared the hat.

"Anthony, Xavier!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Balaji, Isla!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Berrow, Evangeline!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Cauldwell, Amelia!"

"Gryffindor!"

Rose drifted off, losing interest in the sorting...

"Finnegan, Gavin!"

"Slytherin!"

Rose jerked to attention. Finnegan? A Slytherin? That was an interesting development.

…"Hopkins, Harper!"

"Hufflepuff!"

Rose drifted again, but perked up at Malfoy's name.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

_I don't even know why I bother listening_, thought Rose. _Guaranteed Slytherin_.

There was a long pause though, when the hat was placed on Scorpius's head.

_Hmm, a Malfoy, eh? You should be easy, but you're not. You're a bit like your father, Draco in that way. I sensed that he would be a very powerful Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, but your father was set on being a Slytherin. But you, you don't care. You could be anything! The choice is yours, my boy. Although, I sense that your mother would be rather shocked if you weren't a Slytherin._

Scorpius ran through the possible scenarios that would result from being placed in a house other than Slytherin, but his eyes settled on Ara.

_Do you know what she will be? She's a Zabini_. Scorpius felt a little silly mentally talking to a hat, but hey, it was magic and that's all that mattered.

_She'll probably have the same choice as you, I've heard her mother is incredibly ambitious, yet also very loyal. Choose, my boy._

_Slytherin._

_You sure?_

_Positive._

"Slytherin!"

Scorpius made his way over to the Slytherin table, noticing the puzzled faces across the hall. He grinned to himself. It must have taken a while, and everyone was wondering what was wrong.

"Nott, Emelda!"

"Slytherin!"

"Potter, Albus!"

_Where shall I put you, hmm? Not as brash as your brother, James, who fits into his namesake rather well. You are level-headed and cheerful. Where would you like to be?_

_Which house needs me the most?_

_Hufflepuff, it has spent too many days in the shadows._

_Put me there, then!_

"Hufflepuff!"

"WE GOT A POTTER!" screamed the Hufflepuff table, who was whooping at the top of its lungs.

..."Thomas, Peyton!"

"Gryffindor!"

"von Loisson, Iridia!"

"Slytherin!"

"Weasley, Rose!"

Rose took a deep breath and allowed the hat to be placed on her head.

_You know, you're very similar to your mother, Hermione. I remember when she came, she could have been anything! Very sharp, your mother._

_Even a Slytherin? _Rose asked, confused.

_Oh yes, your mother was and is very ambitious. I advised against it, though, because she would have problems with her blood purity. But you're a half-blood, so the choice is yours._

Rose thought for a moment. _I think I'd like to be... a Gryffindor. It seems the closest to home._

"Gryffindor!"

"Zabini, Araluen!" Ara sat down on the stool gracefully, awaiting the hat.

_I knew it! You're a tough one, just like that Scorpius boy. You should be easy, but you could fit anywhere. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, goodness, what's the point in having me at all? Your choice, you get to choose one._

_Will those in Slytherin be loyal to each other?_

_Yes, perhaps even more so than in Gryffindor, if you earn their respect. Not to say that there isn't a lot of competition and potential for sabotage, but I feel like you would be one most would cherish and adore. Besides, you _like _to be kept on your toes, that's why you put up with Scorpius's ridiculousness, eh?_

Ara made eye contact with Scorpius.

_Slytherin_.

_I figured you might. Scorpius asked where I might place you, if that helps any._

"Slytherin!"

Scorpius grinned, making room for Ara to sit.

"And that concludes the Sorting for this year! Welcome to our class of 2020!" declared Professor McGonagall. The great hall erupted in loud cheers.

"I'm absolutely rubbish at speeches," smiled McGonagall as some of the students snickered. "But I'll give it my best shot. Welcome to Hogwarts our first years! There's a few ground rules that I won't bother going over, since they would bore you to death. Not to say-" McGonagall paused, and the hall quieted after the excited whispers that rippled throughout the students. "Not to say that they're not important, but I'm sure our Head Boy, Girl, and prefects will do a splendid job for me. Welcome back to all returning students, and I hope you all will create wonderful memories together this year. Now, let's dig in!" McGonagall clapped her hands together, and the food floated through the hall and down onto all of the tables.

An otter patronus and dragon patronus suddenly flew in through the windows, pausing in front of the Headmistress to deliver their message. The Headmistress dropped her fork and screamed at the news. Everyone in the hall turned to look at her. The Headmistress? Screaming? What could have possibly made the Headmistress scream?

The patronuses vanished, and she seemed to take a few deep breaths, processing the news. She abruptly stood up, and walked back to the podium.

"Would Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley please come with me?" she called.

Scorpius and Rose both froze, mid-bite. Scorpius unsteadily got up from his seat, and Rose followed. When the two reached the Headmistress at the entrance to the Great Hall, Scorpius paused and cleared his throat.

"Professor, is it bad news?" he asked timidly.

"You're not in trouble at all, if that's what you're worried about," she replied shakily.

"Can Araluen come with us, wherever we're going?" McGonagall looked down sharply at the boy.

"Why?"

"She's our best friend and support," supplied Rose, who had an unsettling feeling in the bottom of her stomach.

The Headmistress looked down her glasses. _Anything to soften the blow, I'll do_, she thought. "Very well. Araluen Zabini, please come with us!"

Ara hurriedly stuffed another treacle tart down her throat and jogged over to Scorpius, who grabbed her hand tightly.

The Headmistress walked away briskly, banging the doors open and heading for her office. "Your father, Mr. Malfoy, and your mother, Ms. Weasley, are here to explain something."

Ara froze. "Oh no!" she whispered.

McGonagall gave her a sharp look, clearly demanding that she not voice her suspicions. "Come into my office, your parents are waiting."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks all for the reviews, follows, and favorites! You guys motivate me to keep writing! This is my first fanfic, too, so I'm glad it's already got a bit of a following! So, we're back to our favorite characters. By the way, how did you guys like the next generation (ie Scorpius, Rose, Alruen, Albus, etc)? Too snarky, too nice? Too much like their parents? I channeled Fred and George's silliness into Lorcan and Lysander, since I just love twin dynamics. Too much? Too little? By the way, if you're confused in this next chapter about who Draco is talking about, it will all become clear later. It's supposed to be ambiguous. HINT: Do look at the two main characters for this story, and you might just get an idea. Please review!**

"_Mind if I join you?"_

Draco turned to see Alex, who was hugging herself, staring out to the evening sky.

"Of course, Alex. You don't even need to ask."

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, glancing up at him.

"I'm always okay," he snorted, but then grew solemn and turned back to the sky. "I'm more worried about Astoria, though. With Weasley gone, I think she's going to lose her will to live. I was speaking with one of the Healers who was monitoring her at St. Mungo's. I thought Tori was asleep or couldn't hear us, but apparently she wasn't. I know Tori was awake," he continued to explain when Alex gave him a queer look, "because when I explained to the Healer that Weasley had been murdered, there was a huge surge in brain activity and her heart rate increased three-fold. She's not going to want to stay here, I know it. She'd sooner die than take care of her husband and child and live without Weasley's presence. Why does Weasley always get everything?" Draco grumbled. "I need her, Alex. She may not be the love of my life, but she's the mother of my child! At the very minimum, Scorpius needs her!"

"She'll be okay, Draco."

"How can you know that? Maybe you should go to her, being the most bloody fantastic Healer out there. I'd know she's in safe hands if she's with _you_," he suggested, sounding sarcastic and desperate at the same time.

"I'm sure the St. Mungo's employees will have taken care of her spectacularly. They are certainly more than capable. I'll pop in tomorrow morning, although. How's that?"

He sighed and nodded, losing his angry energy.

"She loves Ron, doesn't she?" murmured Alex. He nodded. "After all this time, I thought as much, but I could never be sure. And you still love _her_, don't you?"

"I thought you might have already figured that out, " he sighed. "And yes, I'm still in love with her. It's never faded, even after all these years. It's unwavering and unchanging, I never knew something could be so... steadfast." He paused. "You know, that's the reason why Astoria and I married. We both fancied people who were already taken with others. I didn't want to marry, if it wasn't for love, as you know, but you know my mother. Tori and I connected. The irony, we married because we both felt rejected by others and all alone," he laughed darkly. "Astoria has, at the very minimum, made this marriage tolerable. She wasn't a complete airhead, and I could have done a lot worse."

"I don't mean to disrespect Ron, but you know..." Alex trailed off, not wanting to voice her thoughts. Draco turned to her sharply, and understanding her implied suggestion, and stared at her harshly.

"It won't happen, Alex," he stated firmly, cutting her off before she could respond. "You know it won't. I know you're an optimist, but she signed her fate away at her wedding. No, even before that. She won't look at anyone else, ever again. Did you see her? How delirious she was because of her love for him? That's not going to go away. That love, that dedication and devotion! The pain! It won't fade, there's no chance. I know, because _my _love doesn't fade. Hers won't even if you give her a thousand years! She won't _ever _look at me," Draco sat down heavily, hanging his head dejectedly.

"I just wish _she_would look at me with that type of unwavering, steadfast love," he whispered brokenly, a few tears escaping his eyes. Alex sat down next to him and embraced him.

"Shh. Let it out. Astoria will be fine, Draco. She'll be okay. You and Scorp will be okay. We're all here for you, you know," Alex murmured, patting his back. "Everything will work out, you'll see."

Draco sobbed silently into her shirt. "Nobody loves me," he blubbered.

"Draco! Look at me!" Alex jerked his chin up to meet her eyes. "You know that's not true. Scorpius, Pansy, Daphne, Theo, Blaise and I all love you. Your mother loves you. Astoria loves you, in her own way. _She _does, too! You know why, when we came back to England, she got married right away? Because she was starting to fall for you, and she was scared!"

"Don't give me false hope, Alex! That was in the past and it's just because we spent some time together. That's certainly not the case now," he snapped.

"I'm not. I'm stating a fact."

Draco stood up abruptly, wiping his tears away. "I still have a wife, you know. She's not dead. She won't die. She _is_alive," he said stiffly as if he was trying to convince himself.

"Draco, I know. Don't do this to yourself, though. Don't give up!"

"Please, Alex. How many more years will she continue to look at me, and not really see me? How many years can I continue to take it? You've got it easy, you've got Blaise. I wonder why I _don't_ give up. And then I remember. I couldn't leave you or Blaise. You two keep me sane."

His voice softened as he looked down at Alex, who was still sitting. "Thanks, Alex. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're right. She'll be fine. Astoria's still my wife and is still alive," he bent down and kissed the top of her head, and then walked back into the house.

"But perhaps, not for long," Alex whispered sadly, and then followed him.

Blaise was staring out the window at Alex and Draco, who was currently sobbing his life out. He sighed, Draco was not having an easy time. Neither was Hermione, who had just lost her love. After Voldemort's death, the world was supposed to heal, and no one should have to suffer. But that wasn't life, and new wounds have been made. Hearing soft footprints come up alongside him, Blaise turned to see a teary-eyed Hermione.

"Hi," she greeted him softly, looking out the window. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"How are you holding up?" he asked her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Holding," she murmured, putting more weight onto him as she leaned into him. She nodded in the direction of Alex and Draco. "You ever...worry that Draco still loves her?"

Blaise scrunched his eyebrows together. "Of course he loves her. Who doesn't?" he chuckled. "You mean, more than a friend? He's my best mate, he'd never do that to me. I have plenty of faith in Alex, too. You know both of them and how close they are, I don't know why you'd suggest or even think something like that."

Hermione bit her lip. "Sorry, it's just, hard now, you know? Seeing them is like seeing me and... and Ron. Or Harry. Or anyone who is hurting. Although, if it were anyone besides Ron or Harry, Ron would probably blow his top off in jealousy."

Blaise shook his head sadly, understanding her jealousy of Draco and Alex's steadfast friendship. Hermione had just lost _her_best friend, and even the relationships between the Golden Trio could barely compare to Alex and Draco's. "See, I know both of them so well that I'd never have to worry about it. I trust them, don't you? Plus, Draco loves someone else in that romantic sense, and is truly devoted to Astoria. There's nothing to worry about; Alex has just been there for both him and me in the worst of our times. If you can find someone to support you when you're at your lowest, you should never give them up. When they see your scars and, instead of flinching away or trying to cover it up, they try to heal them and make them fade away, you know you've found yourself someone special."

Hermione gave the tiniest of smiles. "You've always been the easiest Slytherin to get along with, Blaise, and it's not hard to see why."

Blaise patted her back, dropping his arm from her shoulders. "Same goes for you, Princess of the Gryffindorks," he smiled.

"Do you ever think back to when it was just us four?" asked Hermione, absentmindedly drawing patterns on her left arm.

"All the time," Blaise replied coolly, unsure where she was going with this, glancing at the scarred word engraved on her arm. Didn't she realize that she was drawing attention to it when she traced it like that?

"I wish I could just travel back and time and live in those moments until I die. Those were the best years of my life, you know." Blaise raised an eyebrow at her statement.

"I know they were some of the best for me and especially Draco, but you, Hermione? What about your marriage? What about your children?"

"I liked it because it was an escape. It was a separate paradise where nothing could weigh me down or push me up. Exactly like Malfoy said, I was free to be whoever and whatever I chose, not prejudged on some reputation that I may or may not have rightfully earned. It was refreshing, it was new and interesting. My life here in England was already laid out for me when I became friends with Harry and Ron. I would help destroy Voldemort, fall in love with Ron, become a successful witch, marry Ron and bear his children, and die surrounded by ginger haired grandchildren," she listed, with a tad bit of a bitter tone. Blaise, speechless, did not comment on her seeming unhappiness. "Except some psychopath decided that it wasn't classic enough for the life of Hermione Granger. No, she became a widow only fourteen years into her fairytale marriage."

"You didn't have to marry Ron and bear his children or any of the other things you listed. There's nothing in that list that you didn't sign up for," Blaise said almost accusingly, wondering if she was just losing her mind in her grief. "Don't you love Ron, Rosie and Hugo? Would you really change any of that?"

She looked at him. "I don't know. I love my family, I do! I just, oh I don't know anything anymore. I might. If I had a time turner, I really might," she rambled on and on, Blaise growing more and more concerned by the minute.

"Hermione," he started, and then dragged her over to a chair. "Sit down." She sat, putting her face in her hands. He knelt down in front of her and forced her to look at him.

"You know you love your family. The years we had together were nice, but that's all in the past. You need to focus on now. I know it hurts Hermione, everyone's hurting right now."

"What's hurting you?" she asked bitterly.

"The fact that two of my best friends are hurting. That hurts me."

"Well I'm sorry that I'm such a burden on you. I'll just go and kill myself and join Ron."

"HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER WEASLEY!" Alex roared, storming into the room, Draco paused in the hallway, and turned back to see what the fuss was about. "JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE FEELING MISERABLE DOES NOT GIVE YOU A FREE PASS TO SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!"

"Alex, honey, calm down. I can deal with this, she didn't mean it!" Blaise got up and put his hands on his wife's shoulders, gently pushing her out into the hallway, nodding for Draco to calm her down. Draco's lips pressed into a firm line and nodded back.

"Just make sure she never says anything like that again," she snapped, and turned on her heel, walking briskly away, Draco following hot on her heels.  
"Hermione, you're not a burden and you know you don't mean that," Blaise snapped, turning to face her. "You can't leave Rose and Hugo behind, can you? Could you ever look into their faces and say you'll leave them orphaned? What type of a person would you become if you did that?" Blaise was starting to feel like a father reprimanding a whiny child. He shuddered at the thought, and tried to focus at the task at hand.

"Stop guilting me, Blaise! I'm miserable without Ron, and I don't know how I'll live without him!" she sobbed. Blaise was exasperated, barely holding in all of the expletives he wanted to shout at her. He knew she was hurting, but she didn't have to lash out at others.

"Then don't say that ever again, hasn't Alex ever told you how much it hurts her? You know it's a sensitive topic for her! And you _will_ be okay, Hermione! I know it's not going to be easy, and it may take a while, but you will be okay, Hermione. We're here for you. We all are," Blaise finished, trying to end gently.

"Everyone but Ron," she just sobbed. He just sighed. He couldn't do anything more about this, even if he wanted to. All was left to do was to wait and let her calm down.

Hannah walked into the room and wrapped her arms around Hermione. "I'll take it from here, Blaise. Go find Alex, and dinner will be served in a little bit. Come on, Hermione, let's get you something to eat, shall we? I know you're exhausted and you must be starving," Hannah pulled Hermione up to her feet and pushed her out of the room. Blaise watched them go, and then sat down heavily on the chair Hermione had vacated, putting his face in his hands. Harry entered the room.

"Uh, hey Zabini. Some of us were trying to play some make-shift Quidditch, to get our minds off things, you know?" Harry started uneasily. Blaise looked up, and noticed the swimming grief held in his strikingly green eyes. Blaise understood, Harry desperately needed to let off some steam, since he was barely holding it together for Hermione and Ginny. "Care to join us?"

"I wouldn't mind," Blaise agreed, standing up. "Although I'm not going to let you off easily, Potter."

Harry smiled grimly. "Wouldn't dream of it, so long as you're not fouling every two seconds." Blaise grinned.

"Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin, Potter."

"Do you think Malfoy would like to join us? Until dinner, of course." Harry added hesitantly, clearly uneasy at the thought of addressing the other Slytherin.

"Nah," Blaise replied, as the two men strolled out of the room. "I have a feeling he wouldn't want to, it wouldn't be enough of a distraction for him."  
"Is his wife okay? Astoria, right?"

"Not from the looks of it."

"If you don't mind me asking, but why isn't he at the hospital with her?"

Blaise sighed. "Their relationship... it's really rather complicated. Under normal circumstances, he would be with her, but he owed Hermione a lot of answers. See, he's been in contact with Pansy and Flint for the last few years, because she was absolutely desperate and came to him for help. It's not what you think, Potter," Blaise drawled when Harry opened his mouth. "Pansy and Marc really love each other. Pansy's obsession in Hogwarts was actually because of a bet that she lost. She's always cared about Draco, but as a friend, nothing more."

Harry was stunned, to say the least, but didn't comment. There was another long pause in the conversation as he handed Blaise a broom, and walked out into the backyard.

Harry turned to Blaise again. "Then why doesn't he just go back the hospital now? I can't really imagine him enjoying my close proximity to him, much less being in my house."

Blaise sighed. "Like I said, it's complicated. Something probably happened at the hospital, anyways. I don't know all the details. He needs a shoulder to lean on, and Alex, Hermione and I are his best friends. If we're here, he's here. We were kind of like the Golden Trio in California; home is where our friends are."

Harry pondered this. "I guess I can see that. I mean, theoretically, if I married someone who wasn't Ginny, I would want to spend my time with Ron and Hermione, especially if my wife was in a coma and couldn't respond to anything. Logically, it would make more sense for me to be where I feel most comfortable, which would be with them." Harry saddened a bit at his own mention of Ron.

"Exactly, applying logic to justify your own self-preservation. See, Potter, you get it. Very good. We'll make a good Slytherin out of you yet," Blaise joked, nudging him with his shoulder.

Harry shrugged. He could have been a Slytherin, although he was incredibly grateful that he wasn't.

After dinner and the Quidditch game, that, obviously, Harry's team had won, Hannah demanded that Draco and Hermione send their patronuses to McGonagall and inform their children before it was too late. Hermione barely managed to conjure one, but thought hard and eventually did it. Hermione steeled herself, following after Draco into the fireplace. She threw down her floo powder and disappeared in a swell of green flames.

Stepping out of the fireplace, Hermione glanced around at the Headmistress's office, being in there for the first time since her Hogwarts years. Since Dumbledore had died, the office had been cleaned of all of the various knick-knacks that used to lie around. Neat, orderly, and crisp, it perfectly represented the new Headmaster's clean and organized style, from the color-coded quills to her spotless desk. Malfoy was staring at the portrait with the former Headmaster Severus Snape, with his back to the fireplace. As Hermione stepped further into the room, she could hear Snape's dry voice.  
"I trust all has been well, Draco?"

"More or less, Severus. Did you hear about Astoria, yet?"

"You mean the fact that you married her? And that you didn't really love her? Or that she gave birth to Scorpius? No, Draco, I clearly am not up to date to the happenings in your life," Snape drawled sarcastically. "I'm rather disappointed in you, boy. I would have hoped you would have chosen better."  
Draco stiffened, and chose to ignore that last comment. "She was hit with some wordless curse when we were seeing Scorp off at King's Cross. Do you remember Marcus Flint?"

Snape nodded. "Nasty little brute he was. Particularly disturbing teeth. He really should have had orthodontics."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were aware of muggle dental practices."

"I wouldn't have thought you would be either, Draco." Snape rolled his eyes. "Clearly you've spent time with someone who has, though."

Hermione watched confusedly as Draco pinkened. _Am I really that bad company?_ she wondered.

"You have!" Snape crowed triumphantly. "You wouldn't be so easy to read if you hadn't. Has the great Malfoy mask finally fallen?"

Draco scowled. "Ahh, that's better Draco. Much more familiar."

"If you weren't a painting..." Draco muttered.

"But I digress. What about Flint?"

"He actually matured, believe it or not, and he did marry Parkinson," Draco paused as Snape raised an eyebrow.  
"That pug-faced girl?"

"They're actually quite fond of each other. But anyways, he's gone mental after the time turner accident in the Ministry of Magic. Parkinson thought that it would be okay to see Fiona, their daughter, off to Hogwarts with Flint, but he went bloody psychotic and wound up hitting Tori with that spell. She's in a coma, and they have no idea how to fix it."

"Oh, so it's 'Tori' now, is it?" Snape sneered.

"Severus!" Draco warned.

"It's not my fault you fell in love with someone of less than the _purest_ blood. And didn't choose to ignore one's mother and made a worse mistake than I ever did."

Draco glared at the portrait, who merely glared back. _Well_, Hermione thought, _this is a rather interesting development_.

"Mrs. Weasley, my dear, how are you?" asked Dumbledore kindly, from Hermione's right. She cringed at the last name, but Draco snapped his head back to look at her. She tried to keep her face expressionless, as his gray eyes searched to see how much she had heard.

"Please, call me Hermione. I've been better," she replied, breaking her staring contest with Draco. "I've," she took a deep breath. "I've brought some bad news for Rose. Ron was murdered by Marcus Flint shortly after the Hogwarts Express left King's Cross Station."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Mrs. Weasley," Snape said with the most sympathy she had

ever heard from him. "I do hope that you'll find some comfort in knowing that Fred will be taking care of him. I know what it's like to lose a loved one, and it never stops hurting."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I don't worry about him, he'll be waiting for me and there are plenty of people to keep him company until I join him. It's just going to be tough in the healing."

"You'll be all right, my dear," Dumbledore soothed her.

Moments later, McGonagall entered the room, with the three children behind her.

"Dad!" cried Scorp, dropping Ara's hand and rushing over to hug his father. Draco noticed the hand holding, but didn't comment as he knelt down and picked him up, hugging him. Rose ran over to her mother, who did the same.

"Hey bud. Did you guys finish the sorting?" Draco asked.

"Yeah! Ara and I are in Slytherin!" Scorpius exclaimed excitedly. "Rose is a Gryffindor, though." At this, Hermione high fived her daughter.

"What house is Albus in?" Hermione asked, curious.

"Hufflepuff. He told me that he had asked the hat where he was needed most, so he was sorted there," Rose answered.

Draco looked curiously over at the red-headed girl. "Are you guys... friends?" he asked carefully.

Ara snorted, drawing attention over to her. "You should have seen them on the Hogwarts Express. One minute, they're at each other's throats with intelligent insults," Hermione and Draco looked at each other amusedly, "and the next they're ganging up on James and Albus," Ara then covered her mouth, eyes wide, realizing exactly what she had just said.

"Rose!" admonished Hermione.

"Scorpius," warned Draco.

"They're your cousins!" Hermione continued. "Really, I taught you better than that."

"Mum, we didn't really insult them. We were just commenting on their lack of table manners," Rose explained.

"Didn't I tell you to play nice, Scorp?" sighed Draco.

Hermione put her hand on Draco's shoulder. "They were just fooling around. And seriously, James and Albus really do need to have someone harping on their manners. Trust me," she smiled, with an amused twinkle in her eye.

He sighed. "But be warned, Scorp. Step one toe out of line, and I'll make sure Ara tells me about it."

Scorpius waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, Dad. I got it. I'll be nice, Ara will keep me in line anyways."

Ara, ever the perceptive one, approached Hermione warily. "Aunt Hermione... is Uncle Ron okay?" Hermione stiffened, and Ara's eyes widened. "Where's Aunt Tori, Uncle Draco?" Draco stiffened as well. Putting Scorpius down, Draco kneeled so he was eye level with his son.

"Son, your mother is in a coma. It's kind of like a deep sleep, where she can't move her body, and it's hard to tell whether she's conscious or not. She was hit with an unknown curse right after you got on the Hogwarts Express. We aren't sure what's wrong with her."

Scorpius frowned. "Do they know if she'll be okay?"

"There's no way to tell. They healers are doing the best they can, at the moment. I'll let you know if there's any changes. She could be this way for a very long time," Draco stated unhappily. "I'm sorry, I wish I could have prevented this.

"It's okay, dad. I'm at Hogwarts, so it won't be too different for me. But, dad, are you going to be okay?"

"She's still healthy, as far as we can tell. I'll be perfectly fine, son."

Scorpius nodded, frowning still. "Have you talked to Aunt Alex?"

Draco smiled grimly. "Yes, Scorp. She knocked some sense into me and she'll keep me sane."

"Good." Scorpius said, but then directed his glance towards Hermione, who was desperately holding back tears.

"Rosie... your father was murdered in the same incident that Scorpius's son was hit with a spell. I'm so sorry, dear... I'm so sorry," Hermione sobbed, holding Rose tightly to her chest. Rose sobbed with her, tightly clinging on to her mother's arms.

McGonagall sat down heavily in her chair, and the others shifted awkwardly during the intense moment. After a few minutes, the two Weasley women wiped their watery eyes and stood up.

"Congratulations on being in Slytherin, Ara and Scorpius. And congratulations on being in Gryffindor, my dear," Hermione said shakily, kissing Rose on the head. "We should be getting back now, I think Harry will start to worry if we're gone too long."

"Love you mum," Rose hugged her mother fiercely.

"Love you dad," Scorpius paralleled Rose's affections.

"Love you, too," both parents replied simultaneously.

McGonagall stood up, and brought the three eleven-year olds back to the Great Hall after mouthing her condolences.

"After you," Draco motioned to the fireplace, stepping in after Hermione had disappeared.

Once he was gone, Dumbledore spoke up.

"Was it just me, or did Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Weasley have an unparalleled sexual tension that you could just cut through with a knife?" he asked.  
Snape rolled his eyes. "Please. You did _not_ see them in potions. I'm surprised they didn't explode the whole school with their chemistry."

Dumbledore chuckled, staring at the ashes in the fireplace.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**AN: Hey all! Sorry I haven't updated for a few days, but seriously, writing an average of 3,000-4,000 words per chapter is really tough! I hope you enjoy this chapter, I certainly enjoyed writing it. And people, please please please please please review! I love hearing from you all, and it helps me figure out where I want to go with the story when you guys give me feedback! We're back to the next generation, **

_A part of them is gone..._

Ara, Rose, and Scorpius clung to each other outside of the Great Hall, none of them willing to let go and face the rest of Hogwarts. The Headmistress paused in front of the large doors, and sadly looked at the three huddled youngsters.  
"I am very sorry, Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Weasley. If you ever need someone to talk to... well, you now know where my office is. Feel free to come by, so long as it's before curfew. Please do come by if you ever feel the need to talk to someone."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Rose replied.

"Thank you, as well," Scorpius mumbled when Ara nudged his shoulder.

The Headmistress nodded. "It's the very least I can do," she replied solemnly. "Now, let's go finish our dinner, then," she added, opening the large wooden doors. The whole hall quieted, and the three youngsters fidgeted under the scrutiny of the entire hall, who was trying to discern exactly what had happened by the expressions of the intruders. The Headmistress paid them no heed and strode back to her seat; Rose, Ara, and Scorpius returned to theirs.

"Ara! Scorp!" called Emelda Nott, one of their family friends. "Are you guys okay? What happened? You didn't get into trouble already, Scorpius, did you?" she bombarded the two with questions as they approached the Slytherin table.

"We're fine," drawled Scorpius. "I didn't do anything problematic... yet."

However, on the other side of the room, when both Rose and Scorpius sat down simultaneously, the entire hall exploded in fireworks, spelling out "The Class of 2019 is THE BEST CLASS EVER!"

The entire second year class erupted in cheers, and the hall descended into absolute chaos. Lysander nudged Ara, who had sat down next to him.

"Hey Ara, what do you think would happen, if we started a food fight?"

Ara grinned. "Know any good spells to just make the food explode at the other tables, so we don't have to throw anything?"

Lysander smirked back. "I like the way you think, Zabini." He paused. "Which table should we attack first?"

Ara pondered this amongst the screams that McGonagall was trying to quiet down. She chuckled evilly. "The professors!"

Lysander guffawed, grinning from ear to ear. "Zabini, I kind of love you!"

"Let's do this individually. You send a piece of food exploding in Slughorn's face that says 'Go Gryffindor,' and then explode one in McGonagall's with 'Super Slytherin,'" Ara suggested. "Maybe we can pit the professors on each other. Then we move onto the Gryffindors."

"Sounds like a good plan. _Expulso Flagrate_!" shouted Lysander, exploding Slughorn's hearty turkey and smattering a burnt 'GO GRYFFINDOR' turkey skin all over the table. Slughorn's shocked expression was priceless as it was. Lysander keeled over, laughing hard.

"Ara!" he panted, in between laughs. "Your... turn! So... funny!... Slughorn's... face!"

Ara looked at him. "Seriously? I'm a first year!"

"And I'm a second year! Just copy the spell and think of the words! Do it!" he commanded, still laughing and gasping for breath.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered. "_Expulso Flagrate_!" she shouted, concentrating on the words 'Slughorn's Slytherin is Supreme.' Sure enough, McGonagall's Yorkshire pudding exploded into a smoking Slytherin sentence, and everyone in the Hall quieted. For two seconds, Lysander's laughs echoed throughout the hallway, and Lorcan's cheer stood out as the only sound in the entire room.

"You did... a WHOLE... sentence!" Lysander wheezed at Ara, who sat stock still, trying to stop her smile. "And it's... a... freaking... ALLITERATION!" McGonagall, instead of being infuriated as would be expected, simply levitated a pile of gravy, and overturned it on Slughorn's head.

"FOOD FIGHT!" exclaimed Professor Natasha Pucey, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, animating an entire roast turkey and turning it against Professor Neville Longbottom, who in turn commanded a plate of radishes to attack her.

And the chaos began, food flying and exploding all across the Hall. Lysander and Ara continuously exploded the other houses' food, who retaliated with their own spells. A few spells destroyed a couple of green apples, much to Scorpius's dismay. Green apples were, in fact, any Malfoy's favorite fruit.

"WAIT TILL MY FATHER HEARS ABOUT THIS!" he screamed, launching pumpkin juice at a fourth year Hufflepuff, the one who had exploded the apples. The surrounding Slytherins laughed harder, understanding the reference to the famous Malfoy line.

Ara narrowly dodged a flying baguette, but was splattered with several tablespoons of spaghetti sauce. She looked up to see a cheeky Scorpius Malfoy, holding a bowl of spaghetti sauce in one hand, and a pile of noodles in the other, just in time to see him dump it all over her head.

"SCORPIUS CEPHEUS MALFOY!" she screeched, tackling him. He attempted to step out of the way, but ended up slipping on a banana peel, which brought both Slytherins down into a messy pile of discarded food items.

"Ooof! ARALUEN PHAEDRA ZABINI!" Scorpius mocked, receiving a punch on the arm.

"YOU ARE DEAD! DEAD I SWEAR!" Ara yelled, attacking the blonde with her spaghetti sauce-covered hands, smearing red tomato juice all over his uniform. Scorpius just continued to laugh, only infuriating Ara more.

"Is that the best you can do Ara? I thought I taught you better than this. Girls, they can never get a tackle right," he teased.

"You, Scorpius Cepheus Malfoy, leave me no choice," she cried dramatically.

His eyes widened. "You... wouldn't... dare."

She grinned and cackled evilly, tickling the backs of his knees.

"STOP!... STOP!... PLEASE!... I HATE... YOU... ARALUEN!... STOP!" he panted, in between his laughs. "PLEASE!" he begged, gasping for breath. "ARA!"

"Hmm, let me think. Have you paid yet for your disrespectful comments about my gender? Or insulting my tackling skills?" she paused, pretending to ponder it. "Nooooope. Not yet. Not even _close_!" she giggled, continuing to torture him.

"ARA! I'll do ANYTHING!" he gasped. "P... Please!... I'm sorry! Okay? I'm sorry!"

"Swear on your father's Granny Smith apples?" she teased.

"WHATEVER! JUST STOP!" he panted. Grinning, she got off of him and ended her merciless tickling. He laid on the floor, attempting to catch his breath.

"I'm going to hold you to that, Scorp," she laughed.

"Oh no..." he moaned. "What have I done?"

_On the other side of the room_...

"JAMES SIRIUS POTTER! YOU DID NOT JUST DUMP A BOWL OF YORKSHIRE PUDDING ON MY NEW ROBES!" Rose screeched.

"No, Rosie dearest, I did not," he grinned, dodging a chicken leg that was thrown at him.

"JAMES!" Rose yelled. In response, she grabbed a bowl of mashed potatoes and flung several handfuls at the offending second year boy. He laughed as he dodged all of her throws.

"Is that the best you can do, Rose?" he taunted. "I'm ashamed to call you my cousin! You're just a little bookworm who couldn't ever aim even if her life depended on- Oof!" James's speech was cut short by a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Rose, surprisingly strong for her age, picked James up and dumped him on the ground, where a puddle of mashed fish fingers and custard intermingled to create a rather nasty consistency.

"I'm going to get you for that one, Rose Lavender Weasley!" he shouted, as she trotted away to high-five Alden, who was laughing his head off at James's rather undignified predicament. Being a boy, part Weasley, and surrounded by food, James decided to try the mashed up mess he was sitting in. His face lit up as he tasted the mush from the ground.

"You're kidding me, right?" groaned Rose.

"Fish fingers and custard really isn't half bad!" he exclaimed. "Hey Lorcan, man!" he called. "Try some fish fingers and custard! It's actually pretty good."

Lorcan halted his stream of hexes aimed at his brother, Lysander, across the room. "James Sirius Potter, are you _Sirius_?" he grinned. James rolled his eyes.

"That was getting old the fiftieth time you used that, Mr. Orca. At least I don't have a fat whale in my name. Just try it bro, it's actually really good."

"I'm perfectly content with having a massively manly killer whale in my name, instead of a measly little otter, Potter!" Lorcan teased, diving to the ground as Lysander launched a particularly insulting shepherd's pie that narrowly missed Lorcan's head. No seriously, it was actually yelling insults all the way up until it hit the wall and exploded just behind Lorcan. While Lorcan was down, however, James shoved a few fish fingers coated in creamy custard into Lorcan's gaping mouth. Lorcan, practically choking to death, gagged on the intruding fish. Swallowing quickly, Lorcan glared at his friend.

"You could have killed me, James! You are one sick, twisted, evil little boy!"

"Oh, just like you, you mean?" James retorted, rolling his eyes. "Don't be such a drama queen Lorcan, it doesn't suit you by any means. Enjoy the fish at least?"

Lorcan hadn't thought that the odd combination was particularly bad, and in fact, he rather enjoyed it. He, of course, did not want to admit this to James, however.

"You are completely, utterly, and abso-bloody-lutely mental, Potter the Otter. You almost killed me, and I could have died solely because of the ridiculous taste!" he cried, fake retching. "I think, Potter, that you meant to poison me all along! You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!" Lorcan threw his hands up in the air and mock fainted.

Seeing his dramatics, Rose giggled, to which Lorcan sat straight up from the ground. "How... How DARE you laugh?! I am wounded, you wound me Weasley. How dare you cause me so much pain?" he cried.

"Oh please, Scamander, if I wanted to cause you pain, I wouldn't have left you to James," she chortled.

After the food fight, McGonagall demanded that all of the prefects take their respective houses to their dormitories, while trying to hide the ghost of a smiled that threatened to appear on her face. After going through the rules, a few hundred scourgify's, boundaries, etcetera, the first years were sent up to their rooms to unpack and settle in.

"McGonagall seems to be a lot less uptight," Rose commented, sitting on her bed, which was one of three in her room. The two other girls in her room, Amelia Cauldwell and Clara Boot, paused and looked at the red-head.

"I was kind of surprised, too, with the whole food fight thing! My mum and dad always went on about how McGonagall was so strict, but she basically initiated the whole thing by retaliating after Slughorn's trick," Amelia agreed.

"I don't really believe that Slughorn, of all people, would really make something explode in the Headmistress's face," noted Clara, who was desperately trying, unsuccessfully, to separate her hair and several spaghetti noodles.

"_Scourgify!_" Rose yelled, pointing her wand at Clara's hair. The spaghetti noodles vanished, and Clara smiled.

"Thanks, Rose."

"No problem. I do agree with your statement, Clara," Rose continued. "He just doesn't seem like the type, although McGonagall's behavior seems a bit out of character as well. These teachers have thrown me for a loop."

"Maybe she's just YOLO'ing," suggested Amelia, sitting on her own bed facing Rose. "I mean, think about it. THe war's over, and most of the Death Eaters reformed, captured, or executed. There's just not much to worry about. Maybe being near death so much has changed her perspective on things, and she'd rather have fun while life lasts."

"I guess that makes sense, " agreed Rose. "I still don't think it was Slughorn, though."

"I bet you it was that Scorpius Malfoy boy," giggled Clara. "He's got both the name and the looks of a troublemaker. He's bloody gorgeous, too. I bet him and Jayce are going to be best friends."

"God, that's right. Jayce is your twin brother, am I right?" sighed Amelia. Clara nodded. "Those two will probably be like, the Slytherin bad boy princes. But maybe we'll be the Gryffindor goody-two shoes girls that they'll fall for, eh?" Amelia grinned.

"As if," Rose snorted.

"Oh lighten up, flower," teased Clara. "You're just in denial because you like the big bad Malfoy."

"That's really funny," she quipped sarcastically in reply, "because I already claimed the maid of honor at his and Araluen Zabini's wedding."

"Darn! That's right!" moaned Clara. "He's got that Zabini girl already. I totally forgot about her. There's no way he'll go for anyone else. I mean, come on, have you _seen_ that Zabini girl?"

"She's totally got him wrapped around her finger. She's like... 'heel, boy,' and he pants after her, ready to do her every wish and desire," complained Amelia.

Rose just rolled her eyes. "Why do you care so much about him anyways?"

"Because we are predicting and testing our prediction about him being the Slytherin bad boy, " Clara replied simply. "Rose, you live with far too many boys. Clearly you just don't get this girl stuff."

"I'll leave you two to your 'girl stuff that I don't understand,' then," she laughed, trudging down to the common room to find her cousin and his friends. Clara and Amelia giggled, and continued to swoon about the insufferable blonde git. Rose plodded down the stairs, where Lorcan, Alden, James, and three other boys that Rose did not know (probably first years) were seated in a circle.

"Rose my flower, come to snuggle wi' us?" grinned Alden. "That comment about 'gold' was actually a reference to our house color, wasn't it?"

She snorted. "Please, I just went where the Sorting Hat sorted me."

Lorcan laughed. "Oh, so you mean you didn't have a choice, like you were going on about during the entire train ride? Just admit it, your heart lies with us lions."

James shook his head. "Regardless, Rosie, would you like to join our truth or dare tradition?"

"Tradition? You guys are only second years!"

"And you're only a first year," James retorted. "We're _creating_ a tradition, you can be in on it or not, so either join, or die a painful death after missing _two_ years of truth and dare games at the beginning of term," he ended dramatically.

"Come 'ere Rose, it'll be fun," coaxed Alden. She sighed and sat down, finally giving in.

"All right. All right, I'm in. Did you want me to bring Amelia and Clara down?"

"Yeah!" said Abraham, or Abe, Field, a little too eagerly. Xavier Anthony and Peyton Thomas, the other two first years, looked at him curiously. "What?" he defended himself. "The more the merrier, right?"

"Whatever you say, Field," Peyton replied. Rose got up and dragged Amelia and Clara out of their girl talk and down to the common room.

"Truth or dare is one of my favorite games ever!" squealed Amelia.

"Why hello there," laughed Clara, nudging Xavier. "You a first year?"

"Yes, I am," he smirked.

"Okay guys. Who goes first?" asked James.

"I will!" yelled Lorcan excitedly, who was sitting on James's left.

"Truth or dare?" asked James.

"Dare! Obviously," he replied.

"I dare you to lick the bottom of your cauldron," Amelia piped up.

The boys gave her a look.

"What?"

"Really, that's all you got. Girls, so wimpy," goaded Lorcan.

"Okay, you just lost yourself a free easy dare. Fine. I dare you to kiss James on the lips," Amelia amended.

"Hot," sniggered Alden, laughing as the two boys quickly kissed and drew away, grimacing.

"Next!" called James, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Xavier, truth or dare?" asked Lorcan, continuing the dares around the circle.

"Dare."

"I dare you to follow Clara around for a week, pretending that you are abso-bloody-lutely in love with her," Rose stated.

"That was a good one, Rosie dear," Alden smiled. She blushed.

"Thanks," she replied.

"All right then, Clara, it's Clara-ly your turn," James stated. Clara ignored the horrible name-pun. "Truth, or do you dare?"

"Truth," she said evenly, although Lorcan and Peyton groaned.

"Girrrrrrls suck at truth or dare. It's an unspoken rule that it's just dare, or dare," Peyton tried to explain.

"And because its unspoken, I don't care one bit," she quipped. "Now, just make it a good truth."

"Don't mess with my Clare-bear!" shouted Xavier, grinning as he tackled her in a hug.

"I think he plays his dare far too easily," Abe commented.

"How about..." james pondered a truth. Rose opened her mouth to suggest something, but Abe put his hand over her mouth.

"Mmmph!" Rose attempted to yell through Abe's hand. He looked at Rose with a cheeky grin on his face.

"Hush, little flower. Let someone else have a turn."

Rose bristled at the 'little flower' endearment, and Alden and James looked at each other worriedly.

"Mate, uh, you might want to just let her say what she wants to say," James suggested, trailing off.

"Plus, Rose had a really good dare last time, even though it looks like Xavier's enjoying it," Alden commented, looking at Xavier, who was still cuddling Clara. "She'll probably 'ave an equally good truth suggestion," Alden finished with an undertone of caution.

"Fine, fine fine," Abe let go of her, and Rose started to hyperventilate. "I was just trying to be fair to everyone else!"

"Fair? FAIR?!" Rose began ranting, using her famous red-headed Weasley temper at maximum power. "Little flower? LITTLE FLOWER?!" she spluttered. "Don't you EVER call me a little flower again, or I will hex your balls off into the next century. You will never, I repeat, NEVER, call me that or you will never see the light of day ever AGAIN! Would you like to get married and have children? Because by the time I'm done with you, no woman in her right mind will ever look at you and the closest you could ever get to having a child and continuing your idiotic DNA's existence is by adopt- oof!" Rose was cut off and smothered by a pillow.

"Done yet?" asked James. "I'd like to move on with the game, if you please."

Eyes still blazing, Rose nodded her head. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she threatened Abe, who visibly gulped and raised his hands in surrender.

"Whoa there! Okay, okay! I'm sorry, okay?" he cried, anguished. She merely sniffed in response.

"Anyways," Alden tried to restore the atmosphere to its former light-hearted glory. "Rosie, ya had something ta say, right?"

"I was going to ask Clara who she would have an affair with if she had to choose from our parents' generation."

Lorcan and Xavier both gave a low whistle.

"Now _that_ is a brilliant truth, Rosie," Alden praised. Rose again blushed and smiled.

"That is disturbing," Clara sighed. "Well, if it were up to me, I'd choose Araluen Zabini's dad, Blaise."

"Why the hell him?" Xavier practically growled.

"Well, he's tall, dark, a Slytherin bad boy, but also supposedly one of the nicests and sweetest guys in that entire generation. I would have to say, if that's true, and if Araluen's mother ever divorced him, she must be crazy."

"Rose, your turn."

"Truth," she replied to James.

The boys were careful not to groan. Amelia laughed at their expressions, however. "See, you boys are learning!"

Peyton grumbled underneath his breath.

"Anyways," James directed, "I think we're all _dying _to know, Rose. What happened that made McGonagall scream and call both you and Scorpius to her office?"

Rose stiffened and the word dying, and then froze as James completed the rest of his sentence. For a few moments, she didn't respond at all, staring numbly into space. Suddenly, she choked and sprang up from the circle, running out of the common room with her face in her hands, audibly sobbing and banging the door open, much to the Fat Lady's protests. Alden jumped up and glared at James.

"Look at what you did!" he sneered, running after the mourning girl.

"Wow. I didn't think it would be that bad," mumbled James.

Clara looked sadly at the door, hanging ajar. "Someone died," she said hollowly.

"I guess it could have been that bad," shrugged Peyton.

"No, didn't you see the way she froze when James said that 'we're all _dying_ to know'? And you don't elicit that sort of response unless that was exactly what happened. Someone died, I know it," argued Clara.

"I have to agree with Clara. I mean, why else would McGonagall have screamed? It must have been really bad news for her to do something like that. I bet it was one of Rose's parents. And maybe Draco Malfoy had murdered one of them. That would explain why McGonagall had to call up Scorpius, his dad's in Azkaban!" Xavier concluded.

"While I think you might be right on Rose's parents, I doubt that the Malfoys murdered anyone. I think they're being closely watched enough, as it is," suggested Abe.

"Mmm," Amelia pondered this. "Anyways, I hope whatever it is, that no one died. It does no good for us to sit around speculating. We should all go find Rose and you, James, should apologize to her."

"Give her some time," Lorcan suggested. "If something happened to my mum or dad, I don't think I'd want to speak with anyone at the moment."

"True," nodded James.

"She was really good at hiding whatever the bad news was," Peyton thought aloud. "When she came to sit down with us, she just smiled and said it was nothing."

"I was trying to get something out of her, but she just snapped at me and the food fight started before I could continue to pester her," said Lorcan.

"How insensitive could you be?" Clara asked, shaking her head disappointedly.

"Oi, I didn't know it was anything this bad," Lorcan defended himself.

"Whatever. I just hope she's okay," Amelia replied softly but firmly, trying to end the conversation. The rest of the Gryffindors understood - there was no reason to continue speculating on something they probably had no business knowing.

"I hope it wasn't my aunt or uncle, I really hope..." James trailed off.

Amelia turned to James, who was worriedly wringing his hands. "I'm sorry James, we're being insensitive. We know they mean something to you, too."

"It's okay. I just hope whatever it is, that they'll recover from it."

"You'll be surprised as to what people can recover from," Abe piped up optimistically.

James shrugged, and Amelia got up to hug him.

"Rose!" Alden called after the retreating girl. "Wait up!"

She ignored him, continuing to sob and stumble down the moving stairs, not knowing or caring where she was going.

"Rose!" Alden panted, running down several flight of stairs, until one of them magically detached itself from the landing that would allow him to reach her. "Bloody stairs!" he cursed, waiting for the flight to stop moving so he could strategize a new path.

But then, the unthinkable happened. Rose, not really looking where she was going, tripped and fell down the stairs to the detached bottom, barely hanging on as the stairs started moving again. "HELP!" she shrieked trying to pull herself up and onto the stairs, but without any success.

"ROSE!" Alden roared. "Just hold on! I'm coming to get you! Just hold on until the stairs reattach themselves somewhere else.

"I'm going to die!" she was hyperventilating, clutching on the bottom post that supported the stair rail. "I'm going to die, just like him! My mum will never see me again. And neither will Hugo! Hugo!" she wailed. "I'm going to die!"

"You'll be okay!" Alden attempted to reassure, now running down another set of stairs as he tried to get closer to her. "Don't let go, hang on for me, Rose!"

"Why? What's the point?" she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "I'm just going to join him, Alden. I've always been Daddy's little girl. How will I live without him? I can't do it Alden. I'll just let go now."

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Alden yelled. "Stay with me, Rosie. Stay for your mum. Stay for James and Hugo. Stay for Ara and Scorpius. Stay with me Rose, I'm almost there. Your stairs are almost there! Just HOLD ON!"

She just continued to sob and she was swung by the stairs, who began to firmly attach themselves to another landing, finally.

One more flight to go, and Alden would be able to reach her. He continued to sprint down the steps, taking three at a time. "Just hold on, please, Rosie. You can do it," he pleaded.

She attempted to pull herself up, but only managed to swing herself to the side of the stairs, where she couldn't pull herself over the rail.

"Alden! ALDEN! I'm slipping! I don't want to die!"

"I'm here!" he cried, leaning through the rails to hold onto her hand. "I'm here, don't let go." She gripped his hand fiercely. Putting her foot on the edge of the stairs and with Alden's help, they managed to get her safely in the middle of the staircase. Panting, they just sat there for a while.

"Thanks," she mumbled. "You just saved my life."

"You Weasley's get 'nto life-threatening situations far too easily," he joked, clutching her tightly to him. She leaned into him, sobbing.

"My dad's dead," she whispered into his tear-soaked shirt.

"I know, Rosie. I know," he replied softly, stroking her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Why did he have to go?" she moaned.

"Sometimes it's jus' to clear way for the new, Rosie. He'll be watching over you, you know. He loves you, and he'll always be with you."

"He didn't have to go, though! I can't talk to him anymore. I can't cuddle with him. I can't ever hear him go on about the Chudley Cannons. He won't be there to interrogate my first boyfriend. He won't be there to walk me down the aisle. Who's going to do that? He won't ever be my true father, I want my dad back!"

"Shh," Alden hushed.

The two Gryffindors sat on the moving staircases for a while, mourning the loss of a loved one and the opening of new wounds.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long, standardized tests and debate tournaments and piano exams, etc etc etc are just crazy right now. Here's an uber long chapter that hopefully appeases your desires for new chapters! Please review! What did you like, what didn't you like, what would you like to see, who do you think is recruiting death eaters and attacking in France, just let me know!**

_Staring at the ashes in the fireplace..._

By the time Hermione and Draco came back from Hogwarts, everyone but Blaise, Alex, Harry, and Ginny had left Grimmauld Place and gone home. The two couples were quietly conversing when the witch and wizard stepped out of the fireplace, catching the attention of the seated couples.

"Well? How did it go?" asked Ginny miserably.

"Scorp took it well enough, as could be expected," Draco reported. "Rose, too, given the circumstances."

Hermione wiped a teary eye away and nodded. "It was as good as it could be. Rose is a Gryffindor," she added weakly, smiling softly.

"What about Albus, do you know?" asked Harry.

"He chose to be a Hufflepuff."

"Really? Why?" asked Ginny.

"Some nonsense about the House that needed him most," Draco snorted.

"Hey," warned Alex. "Hufflepuff has had amazing people in their house before, and there is nothing wrong with being welcoming and affectionate."

"I just hope he's happy, that's all that matters," Harry concluded.

"Of course, Potter," Draco conceded.

"Did Scorp get into Slytherin? What about Ara?" asked Blaise curiously.

Draco grinned. "Both of them. And by the looks of their hand holding, they were pretty happy about staying together."

Blaise snorted. "You know, if we had been the old-fashioned pureblooded parents who made arranged marriages from birth, they probably would have been happy together."

"No kidding," Draco smiled. "They've both befriended Granger's daughter, Rose, as well, apparently."

"I would expect no less from Ara," Alex grinned. "It's too bad they didn't grow up together. They could have been the next Golden Trio."

The six adults in the room paused for a moment, remembering that Ronald Weasley had been the barrier to their children's socialization.

Harry sighed, and looked at the clock. "It's very late, everyone, and I think we all need to rest. It's been a... an exhausting day."

"Hermione, did you want to stay with us?" offered Ginny. "Just because... well times like these, it's not a good idea to be alone."

"I've been enough of a burden on you already, Ginny. I'll be fine," Hermione tried to refuse.

"Nonsense, Hermione!" Harry piped up. "You're always a joy to have around. Please, stay the night at the very minimum. Otherwise _I_ will be staying up late worrying about you, and I won't get any sleep," Harry tried to guilt Hermione into staying, even though he knew she would see his manipulations as if they were clear as day.

She gave him a look, showing him that she did indeed catch his very much intended guilt trip. "Fine, Harry. I'll stay. Whatever helps you sleep at night, no pun intended."

"Draco, come with us?" suggested Alex.

"Merlin knows I've got nothing better to do," Draco sighed.

"Let's get going, we were supposed to pick up Zayden from my mother a long time ago," Blaise said as he began to stand up. Alex and Draco followed suit, saying their goodbyes and giving awkward hugs.

When the Slytherins had left, the three Gryffindors huddled together, seeking comfort to fill the empty hole that Ronald Weasley had left.

"I can't imagine just how hard my mum and dad are going to take this. Or the rest of my family for that matter," Ginny murmured, burying her head into Harry's shoulder. Hermione froze at the comment, and Harry noticed, grabbing Hermione's hand tightly.

"You okay?" he asked, She shook her head in response. Eyes wide, she tried and miserably failed to keep her hands from shaking.

"I haven't informed my mum and dad yet, and they are not likely to react as one might expect," she shuddered.

"Actually, Mione, come to think of it, I don't think that I've actually really met your parents besides the brief wedding you had," Ginny said thoughtfully.

"They never liked Ron," Harry explained. "Well, her dad was much more, shall we say... vocal about his dislike. Her mum made it passively clear that she did not approve."

"Why?" Ginny asked curiously.

"They did not like how Ron had abandoned us during the hunt for horcruxes. Oh, and also how he had repeatedly broken Mione's heart," Harry continued.

"What I want to know, though, Mione, is why you failed to mention that you had such an extensive relationship with Malfoy and Zabini in Australia. I'm not sure why I didn't really question why the ferret showed up to your wedding, especially when Ron had stormed into my office one day after you two had gotten into a row about it."

"It's really complicated, Harry, so I'm not sure if you want to hear it or how you'll react. And Ron was just being unreasonable, he already knew the extent of my friendship with Malfoy and still tried to forbid me from inviting him, which of course didn't make the situation any better or easier. Are you sure you want to hear the whole story?" she asked hesitantly. Harry and Ginny both nodded in response.

"It's way over time you come completely clean," Ginny chastised.

"I know and I am so sorry for keeping this from you for so long," Hermione sighed.

"Anyways, I think I'd better start during the summer after the war. As you both know, I defended Malfoy at his trial, for some of the same reasons as you, Harry. He didn't want to have to kill Dumbledore, he didn't turn us in when we were captured and brought into Malfoy Manor, his mum actually saved you, Harry, and lastly, but perhaps most importantly, his eyes. When Bellatrix, that abomination of a human being, was... torturing me, I saw his eyes in the midst of my screaming. He never meant for any of this to happen, and though he might have bullied us once upon a time, this was never what he intended.

"After the trial, we had a sort of understanding. He would live his own life out and I mrecentine, so long as the other never interfered. All was over, and we just left it at that, perfectly content to never see each other again. So, we moved on. He and Blaise left and went wherever they went, which apparently ended up being California. We all went back to Hogwarts to finish the year that we missed, and there was all that drama with Ron and Anthony.

"But anyways, when we fast forward a couple of years, when Ron had proposed to me, I realized that I had completely forgotten about my parents, since we were so caught up with capturing stray death eaters, providing testimony for their trials, and doing my own work as a primary lawyer for the defense of magical creatures. But when Ron proposed, I realized that I needed my parents back, after all, they had already missed so much of my life and I couldn't let them miss my wedding.

"So I sent myself off to Australia to track them down, and I know all of you wanted to help me, but this was something I wanted to do privately and under the radar. When I got to Australia, though, it took me months to find them, and I couldn't figure out how to break the charm without torturing them. I was desperate, so I went on the internet to see if I could find any experts on memory charms. I did not want anyone who was working in England or Australia, since the Daily Prophet and the Australian Announcements had already gotten wind of my parents' situation. That left me the States. I checked out one of the most prestigious universities in the States for magic, which happened to be the University of California for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"When I was looking for researchers or healers, I came across Alexandra Wong, a recently graduated student who was doing interesting research on the muggle and magical disease, Alzheimer's. In one of her trials, she was attempting to create a counter curse to the Obliviate charm. She had successfully been able to restore the memories of obliviated people, and was just moving into clinical trials with Alzheimer's patients. Obviously, she had a solution to my situation, so I contacted her to see if I could get the counter curse.

"She responded quickly, but it turned out that she needed to have weekly check ups with her obliviated patients for at least a full year to guarantee that all memories are restored and reinforced. So I asked if she could help with my parents in Australia, and she was willing so long as she met me before heading over to Australia. So I flew to California, and met with her. She was fantastic, and was really a lot like me in a lot of ways. I didn't even meet Zabini or Malfoy when I was in California, only when Alex and Blaise came to Australia and brought Malfoy with them did I realize that the two Slytherins were suddenly a part of my life.

"In the beginning, it certainly wasn't pretty. I completely freaked out, fearing that Alex was some sort of rogue death eater trap, and I'm not proud to say that I was actually the person to throw the spells first."

Hermione looked at Harry and Ginny sadly.

"You have no idea how powerful the three of them really are."

Harry shifted slightly, frowning. "Did Malfoy do anything to you? Last I checked, he was a complete and utter coward."

"No, Malfoy didn't hurt me in any way. And to clarify something: Malfoy was never a coward, believe it or not. It's not my story to tell, but trust me when I say that he's been through some very trying times. Very dark times. And he is more powerful than he lets on. Alex tried to reason with me once Malfoy had taken my wand, and it was only after those two Slytherins left that she was able to get any sense into my head. I felt absolutely mortified, after she was done talking to me. Needless to say, we eventually got along, and became amazing friends as time went on.

"However, Australia wasn't as safe as we had thought. You know how the Lestrange brothers were caught in Australia? That was because they were tracking me down for revenge. They actually attacked us one day, and if it weren't for Alex, Draco, and Blaise, I probably would have died, and my parents, too. We defeated them, but we were also shaken. But as with any life-threatening situation, we bonded over it. And so we became best friends, even more than best friends. We became family. It frightened me, and I wanted to return to the United Kingdom as soon as possible.

"As soon as we came back to Britain, I married Ron. And you all know the story from there."

"Blimey, Mione, you could have died you were attacked by Death Eaters, and you didn't see it fit to tell us anymore this?" Harry asked angrily. "Did you ever even tell Ron what sort of danger you went through?"

Hermione hung her head in reply.

"One thing I've always wondered about, Hermione, is why you married Ron so suddenly. I thought you told us that you wanted a long engagement," Harry spat out bitterly. "You fell in love with someone else, didn't you? Someone who wasn't Ron? You never told him this, I bet, and you just married him after basically going behind his back and cheating on him when you were off in Australia, huh? Brightest witch of our age my ass. You jumped into danger, lied about your feelings, and kept us in the dark for eleven years. I thought I knew you, Hermione. Did none of those years hunting horcruxes and defeating Voldemort together mean nothing to you?" Harry snarled.

Hermione burst into tears. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she wailed. "I'm such a horrible person, I lied to my friends and husband for so many years! I'm a terrible person."

Ginny shook her head, placing a hand on Hermione's knee. "Although I'm hurt that you didn't tell us before, I can sort of understand why. You're not a horrible person by any means, we just wish you were more open with us. It destroys our trust in you when you keep things from us. The question is always asked, what else are you keeping from us?"

"I'm so sorry, you both deserved better than this. It was just hard, you know? There was a lot of shock, and confusing feelings, and... ugh."

"We get it, Hermione. We just wish you told us beforehand, before everything went wrong," Harry replied, losing his anger. "Why did you even bother marrying Ron?"

"It was safe. It was the easy way to go. The man I fell in love with, you would never approve," Hermione said sadly.

"We trust your judgement," Harry began. "Well, I _used_ to trust your judgement," Harry amended. "But seriously, where's the Gryffindor bravery? We would at least try to understand, and it's not like he could be _that_ bad."

"You don't understand!" cried Hermione.

"Then make us!" Ginny huffed, exasperated.

"I fell in love with VOLDEMORT'S HEIR. HIS PERSONAL APPRENTICE! Do you know how WRONG it is to love the second most dark man on the Earth? Do you know how TERRIFYING it is to know that he could kill YOU without even saying a word, or waving his wand? Do you know how FRIGHTENING it is to fall in love with someone you know has every capacity to destroy your life, but doesn't for whatever his own reasons are? Do you know what it's like to love a MURDERER?" Hermione screeched, and then clapped a hand over her mouth. Harry and Ginny froze, but Ginny's eyes darted from Hermione to the fireplace, and back again, as if connecting the dots.

"You loved... Malfoy?" asked Ginny.

Hermione just stared back, her eyes watering.

"What do you mean _Malfoy_, Ginny? He was too much of a coward to ever be in the favor of Voldemort to that extent. He never killed Dumbledore, even when he had the chance. I doubt he could kill anyone." Harry squinted his eyes at Ginny, confused.

"Didn't she just tell you that Malfoy isn't the coward we all thought he was?" asked Ginny.

"Tell me it's not Malfoy, Hermione, seriously. His whole family, besides Bellatrix, was being used and discarded. His father took the entire family out of favor. There's just no way he could have been the heir to Voldemort," Harry scoffed.

"It doesn't matter who it is," Hermione whispered. "He was still bad, he was still filled with darkness. I loved a dark, dark man."

"How could you, Hermione?" Harry's voice shook, with stress and confusion intermingled. "How could you fall in love with a man so dark, so purely _evil_?"

"But that's just the thing, Harry. He wasn't evil. He had so much light inside of him, even though the darkness was threatening to overwhelm him. He needed a chance, and he deserved so much more than he received. He was good, inside Harry, and I dare say the man he's become is so much more good than bad."

"It's totally Malfoy-," Ginny began.

"Leave it," Hermione said sharply. "I'm done with this conversation, you know the story now, and you know my shame. Ron's dead, Astoria's in a coma, that's more than enough for one bloody day!" She shouted angrily, and stormed up the stairs into one of the guest bedrooms. Neither Harry nor Ginny tried to stop her.

"It's worse than I thought, Harry," Ginny sniffled.

"I still don't understand, even if it was Malfoy, how could she fall in love with him, of all people? Or with someone even more dangerous? Hermione is logical, and it worries keep that she seems to throw all caution to the wind whenever we aren't there with her."

"Harry, love isn't logical, you and I of all people should know this. Who knows? Merlin, we definitely didn't know Malfoy well in school, and we only ever saw the worst side of him when we did. It doesn't make much sense, but at the same time it sort of does..." Ginny pondered.

"What do you mean it makes sense? It doesn't make any sense at all," Harry exclaimed.

"But it does! Malfoy was the second in your class, no? Only second to Hermione? And he's a bad boy when she's the good girl. They have loads of sexual tension, are intellectually equal, both are apparently bloody powerful, and it just fits the bad boy good girl cliche. You know what they always say about boys who tease girls, it means they like them," Ginny reasoned.

"Malfoy like a muggleborn? Please, Gin, the teasing was to make her life miserable, not just to get her attention," Harry scoffed.

"Oh forget it, you just don't get it, you hopeless man," Ginny sighed.

"No, Gin, I don't think I'll understand for a long time."

"At least keep an open mind."

"I try, Ginny, but this story is really testing my tolerance."

"I'm pretty sure that that's all 'Mione is asking for, Harry."

"I will try my hardest. I will."

Blaise and Alex stepped out of the green flames, closely followed by Draco. "Blaise, do you want me to pick up Zayden or do you want to?" asked Alex.

"Could you? I'm not really wanting to put up with my mum right at this moment," Blaise sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Alex nodded. "Make sure to get Draco's room ready for him, and I'll be right back."

"I will, love," Blaise affirmed, kissing her cheek.

With that, Alex stepped into the fireplace, the green flames engulfing her. Blaise turned to Draco, and motioned him to sit down on one of the chairs, choosing an ivory colored chair for himself whereas Draco chose a light green seat in front of a large nine foot grand piano.

"So, mate, how are you holding up?" Blaise asked cautiously.

"I'm tired of bad things happening to me," Draco replied.

"Well, your life was fairly mediocre for a rather long stretch of time, so maybe the universe decided to throw you a curveball," Blaise joked. "Besides, your family is only the richest in the magical England."

"I know, I don't have a half bad life, as things have turned out."

"Look at it this way, you might grow closer with her because of this."

"Don't bother bringing her up! Last time I grew 'closer' to her, she went off and married the Weasel. Can't you and Alex just stop shipping us?" Draco snarled.

"Well it was either you and Hermione, you and Harry, or you and your bloody apples," Blaise muttered.

"I beg your pardon?" Draco snapped.

"Anyways," Blaise continued, ignoring Draco's sputtering outrage, "you should really just focus on something besides the women in your life who are driving you batty."

"A nice glass or two of Ogden's finest firewhiskey might just do the trick."

"I'll check to see if we have any, but if we do, which I kind of doubt, there will be no excessive drinking in this house, especially with Zayden coming home soon. You know how Alex is about alcohol."

"Yes, Blaise, I know. I'm not quite that pathetic, yet. And if I were, Alex would let me know exactly how irresponsible I am being," Draco drawled.

Blaise amazingly found a bottle somewhere in the depths of the Zabini wine cellar, and brought a couple of glasses back to the sitting room.

"I still don't understand why you don't get a house elf, Zabini. So long as you give them clothes, food, shelter, and pay, Granger's SPEW laws allow you to have some extra help around the home," Draco mentioned while taking a large swig from his glass.

"Alex refuses, and we don't really need one."

Draco just shrugged. "Speaking of which, where is she?"

"My mum tends to just keep talking, and talking, and talking. She's probably trying her hardest to get out of there politely."

"Your mother, she's doing well then? Has she found anyone to really settle down with, yet?"

"Yes, she's fine, and has been healing well since the war ended. I think she's reevaluated her life, making sure that Ara and Zayden have a respectable grandmother on the paternal side. I don't think she's planning to add anymore conquests to her already long list, so she'll look for a real person to spend the rest of her life with."

As Blaise was answering that last question, Alex and Zayden appeared in the fireplace. Zayden waddled over to Draco, grabbing the chair arm.

"Uncle Dwaco here, Mummy! Uncle Dwaco bring Scorpi? Zay-zay miss Scorpi. Daddy! Uncle Dwaco here!" Zayden babbled, holding carefully on the furniture so as not to fall over.

"Zayden, you're six years old, you don't need to babble like a two-year old,"Alex sighed. "You know the English language, so use it."

"Yes, Mommy. Tzara was forcing me to play baby with her, so I was acting like one," Zayden chirped.

"Hey buddy, how are you?" Draco, quite fond of his godchild, ruffled Zayden's hair.

"Okay, even though Tzara kind of forced me to play the baby."

"Tzara Pucey? Natasha and Adrian's daughter?" Draco asked.

"Yes, you know Tashy. The Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts? That's her," replied Alex.

"Auntie Tashy has the most frightening sneezes," Zayden commented.

"The expert curse breaker, who met Adrian at a pub, am I right? She was then subsequently hired to deal with some of the curses on various dark objects in the Pucey Estate? The really frightening one, with crazy feminist extremism?" Draco asked, trying to recall Natasha's life story.

"That's the girl. Jeez, Draco, she went to UCWW with us and has been to several Slytherin reunions. You really ought to know her by now," Alex rolled her eyes.

"Daddy, Mommy rolled her eyes at Uncle Draco, isn't she in trouble now?" Zayden observed.

"Yes, son. She's in loads of trouble now!" Blaise smirked mischievously. "I think she needs to be tickled, what do you think Zayden?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Zayden crowed triumphantly.

"Draco! Alex screamed, being chased around the room by a tumbling six-year old. "Help me, please!"

Draco cracked a small smile. "Alex, looks like you're on your own."

"Aaaaaaah!" she laughed. "Ugh! Draco!" Alex cried shrilly as Zayden nearly got a hold of her.

"Ugh! Alex!" he mimicked, grinning.

"Gotcha!" Zayden cried gleefully, launching himself against his mother and tackling her leg. Blaise joined him in tickling ALex, who was gasping for breath between her laughs. Draco gave a breathy chuckle, and pulled Zayden off of Alex.

"Now, Zayden, let's not kill your mother by not allowing her to breathe. It's late, and you need to go take a bath, yes?" Draco asked Zayden while carrying him off to the staircase that led to the bathrooms and bedrooms in the Zabini Manor.

Blaise pulled Alex up to her feet. "There's nothing like a good tickle attack to make everything better," Blaise laughed, looking towards the staircase where Draco and Zayden had disappeared.

"There's nothing quite as uplifting as playing with a child," Alex smiled. "Let's get Zayden to bed, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I need to go to St. Mungo's tomorrow to check up on Astoria," Alex continued, becoming serious.

"Why? I mean, if you wanted to visit, then sure, but you've never really liked Astoria or taken any interest in her. So I'm assuming that you're going for medical reasons?" Blaise asked confusedly as they climbed the stairs to the residential side of the Manor.

""Draco was worried that she would lose her will to live since Ron has passed. He wanted me to check up on her to see if I can do anything, but I have a feeling we'll need Tashy to take a look at Astoria's condition, since she's a great curse breaker. Actually, Bill might be helpful, too."

"Not a bad idea. I can owl both of them tomorrow morning. We do have a conference call tomorrow with the Medrex diagnostics branch in Italy tomorrow. They wanted to go over some of the heart disease early screening tests again, and also talk about various marketing techniques that they've come up with since our last meeting."

"Yeah, that call isn't until three tomorrow, right? I can go to Astoria in the morning and then come back for lunch and the call."

"All right love, let me know how Tori's doing."

"I will, now let's get one of the guest rooms ready for Draco. DRACO!" Alex called through the bathroom door, where Zayden's cheerful voice could be hurted amongst some splashing and Draco's attempt to censor his language.

"Yeah?" Draco responded, pulling open the bathroom door to reveal a sopping wet blonde.

"Which guest room did you want? The usual green and black one, or the black and silver room?"

"I think the black and silver room, this time. I usually go Slytherin, but I'm just not in the mood for house colors at the moment. Thanks, Alex."

"No problem," she called over her shoulder, already walking down the hallway and pulling out her wand to clean the sheets and dust the room to make it presentable.

"Are you coming to the conference call tomorrow, mate? If you're not feeling up to it, that's fine, and Italy's my expertise," Blaise said after taking out his wand and casting a simple drying spell over Draco and the bathroom floor.

"I don't know, I really don't know," Draco groaned.

"Alex is going to be there with me, so feel free to take the day off if you're not really inclined to come," Blaise added.

"I'll let you know tomorrow morning. I think I need to spend some time with my mother, and maybe Daphne and Theo. I'm probably due for a visit to Astoria as well, since I'm not staying there at the hospital."

"Sure, just let us know at breakfast tomorrow. Is Zayden too much for you? I can take care of him. And he should know better than to splash the bathroom to that degree, he'll be giving all of the tiles and cabinets water stains that Alex just can't stand!"

"No, no," Draco reassured Blaise. "Zayden's being a good boy, right Zayden?"

"Yeah, Dad, I am!" Zayden called from the tub.

"He's not any trouble at all. He's a welcome distraction, you know, from everything that just happened," Draco explained.

"Gotcha. Just be sure to cast a couple of extra drying spells for good measure when he's done, we don't want Alex or her mother flipping out when they step into this particular bathroom," Blaise warned.

"I know how OCD Alex is, I'll take care of all of it."

"All right mate, then I'll see you tomorrow if you'll put Zayden to bed?"

"Sure, I'll do that. Goodnight Zabini."

"Night Draco. Night Zayden!" Blaise called to the back of the bathroom.

"Love you Dad, night night!" Zayden replied. "Tell Mom I love her, too!"

"Goodnight son, Draco," Blaise nodded, heading off to the master bedroom.

"Your room is ready," Alex informed Draco just as both Zayden and Draco were drying off. "You'll find everything just as you normally like it. I brought your other spare change of clothes from your other room into the dresser in this room."

"Thanks, Alex. I'll put Zayden to bed, go get some sleep."

"No problem. Thanks for taking care of Zayden," she kissed him and Zayden on the cheek. "Love you both, and get to bed soon, okay Zayden? Goodnight!"

"Night!" both called.

The next day, Draco awoke to a slightly unfamiliar bed, and half-panicked, sitting straight up to look at his surroundings and wordlessly accio'ing his wand. Just at that moment, Alex knocked on the door and opened it to check in on him.

"Expelli-" Draco began.

Without her wand or words, Alex waved her hand and his wand shot straight out of his hand onto the black dresser, landing perfectly in line with his Granger-approved toothbrush.

"Really Draco, I know you're not a morning person, but you can react quicker than that nonverbally and wandlessly. You've become very lax in the last decade or so," Alex teased.

"Well thankfully I haven't had to worry about anything for a while, so I would consider that a plus," Draco grumbled.

"You might want to sharpen up on your skills, because one of my friends from France has let me know that a former death eater has been recruiting and beginning attacks yesterday."

"Who told you this?" Draco asked as he reluctantly pulled himself out of bed.

"Megan Creevey, wife to Dennis Creevey. You remember Colin, the kid who took a lot of pictures?"

"Yeah, Potty's fan boy," Alex frowned at this, but Draco ignored her and continued. "So Dennis is his brother?"

"Yup, and Megan's the charm teacher at Beauxbatons. I'm not really sure why she insists that her son, Colin, has to attend Hogwarts when he's eleven, but I guess it doesn't really matter much."

"Did she say who this death eater recruiter is? Or any death eaters who escaped recently?"

"No, I think it's still unknown. I had heard that Rookwood had escaped a few months ago. But besides that? I haven't really been keeping track, ever since I destroyed my subscription to the Daily Prophet years ago."

"Rookwood," Draco paused in thought, "okay, not completely unmanageable. But I doubt he would actively recruit. He really wasn't that bad of a guy, he was more bored in Azkaban rather than intent on getting loose. That's one of the reasons that he didn't receive the kiss, as opposed to Barty Crouch Junior. There's gotta be something else. Yaxley? Dolohov? The Carrows? What happened to them? The Averys?"

"I don't know, Draco, we'll have to do some research on this. I just find it a little too coincidental that Flint attacked Hermione yesterday at the same time that other Death Eaters attacked France."

"I think we should dig down deeper into this, and I could help Potter if he needs any information. It is a little too coincidental; there might have been some dark magic that was involved with Flint's accident."

"I wouldn't be too quick to jump to accusations of foul play, because I don't think anyone really knows the full story. We should definitely keep track of this, but anyways, are you coming to work today? Or are you going to pass?"

"Let me owl my mum and Daphne, and then I'll let you know when I get their responses back. If they're busy, then I'll have nothing better to do than come to work and get my mind off of things."

"Sure, breakfast is underway, so just come down to the breakfast nook when you're ready."

"I'll be down in a mo," Draco confirmed as Alex left the room.

When Draco stepped into the room, Zayden's cheerful conversation was obviously lacking, and Draco entered confused, staring at the empty breakfast chair next to Blaise.

"Is Zayden just not up, yet?" Draco asked, pulling out a chair next to Alex and sitting down.

"Draco, Zayden already went to school. He _is_ six, you know," Alex informed him, grabbing a plate from the counter and placing it in front of him.

"You guys put him in school? Why not a private tutor?" Draco asked as he shoveled some scrambled eggs onto his plate.

"I hated my private tutor as a child," Blaise answered. "Didn't you hate yours?"

"Well, yeah, but where did you put him in for school? I didn't realize that there were any magical primary schools. Had I known about any, I probably would have put Scorp in school rather than private tutoring. One year, Astoria insisted on this one horrendous tutor, and Scorp hated her. Scorp even ended up hating Astoria for hiring the poor girl. It was a complete disaster."

"I remember that. Everyday, after work, you would come home with Blaise and me in order to complain to us about Astoria's dismal education choices," Alex rolled her eyes. "We put Zayden into the same private muggle school that Ara attended. We kept telling you that Scorp should attend the school with Ara, but you insisted that because it was run by a squib, that no child of yours would ever attend that school. But honestly, Draco, it helped so much that someone who knew about magic was on our side. All of the accidental magic that happened was easily explained by the Head of School."

"Oh that's right. You put Zayden into that school, huh?"

"Yes, and he's having a wonderful time with Tzara Pucey and Isabelle Longbottom, both from magical parents and clearly showing signs of accidental magic every once in a while."

"Speaking of the Puceys, why was Tzara at your mother's, Blaise?" Draco asked curiously.

"Tashy and Adrian are good family friends. They needed to see Athena off to Hogwarts, and you know how the younger siblings always get so antsy whenever it's time to drop the older siblings off. They didn't want to bother Tashy's parents, who, like Alex's, live in the States, and Adrian's parents are currently in Dubai or something to celebrate their 42nd anniversary. My mother offered to watch Tzara and Paxton, as well as Zayden," Blaise answered between bites of his Belgian waffle.

"Where have you been all this time, Draco? Living under a rock?" sighed Alex. "I swear, you spend so much time complaining about your own life that you completely forget anything else that's happening in the world."

Just as Alex finished her breakfast and stood up to clean her plate, Draco's black owl, Tectus, barged through the window into the room and knocked Alex's plate from her hands.

"Tectus!" Alex chastised. "So much for being a hidden or undercover owl. Could you have been more conspicuous?" she sighed, reparo'ing her plate and placing it in the sink. "Freaking bird, they're all just flying rats! At least it's not a flipping pigeon."

"Your American terminology still astounds me to this day," snickered Draco, pulling the two envelopes from Tectus's beak and opening the creamy stationery.

"Well?" asked Blaise when Draco had finished reading both letters.

"Honestly, couldn't a phone call make communication so much easier?" mumbled Alex.

"My mother and sister-in-law are both unfamiliar with Muggle technology, so excuse me for going to a slightly slower, yet more common and easily understood, method of communication," Draco drawled. "My mother would like to meet with me for lunch, and Daphne's planning on visiting Tori at nine, so in about an hour and a half, or a little less than that. I think I'll visit Tori with Daphne, pop over to the Manor for lunch, and then I'll come back in time for the conference call with Italy, assuming all is well with my mother."

"I'll join you for the visit to Astoria, and Blaise, honey, could you owl Bill and Tashy? Tashy probably can't check up on Astoria today, but Bill might be able to," Alex suggested, levitating the rest of the plates and utensils to the sink, where they began cleaning themselves.

"I will, and I'm headed off to work, so I'll see you at lunch, love?" Blaise paused, as Alex nodded. "Okay, and Draco, see you hopefully at three. If either of you have extra time, you should probably check on Hermione to see how she's doing."

"Sure," Draco nodded.

"I'll see what I can do," Alex leaned in to kiss Blaise on the cheek. "And please make sure that Ariel doesn't stress, you know how she gets whenever we have a conference call."

"Yup. See ya!" Blaise nodded and apparated to the Medrex office.

"Let's just go now, since I want to have as much time with Astoria to see if I can figure anything out that the St. Mungo's healers haven't," Alex suggested, pulling on her black overcoat and tying her hair into a messy bun.

Draco shrugged. "Now's as good a time as any." He held out his arm for Alex to side-along apparate, and she took it, snapping into the white walls of St Mungo's hospital.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Mourning the loss of a loved one and the opening of new wounds..._

On the other side of the castle, Ara was trying to snap Scorpius out of his funk. After the food fight, Scorpius hadn't said much of anything, despite Emelda and Ara's futile attempts at starting conversations. By the tenth time both girls had tried and failed to engage Scorpius, Ara was becoming extremely irritated.

"D'ya know who's in your dormitories?" asked Emelda, desperately trying to draw Scorpius into a conversation.

"Dunno," Scorpius said shortly, speaking with a tone that ended all conversations.

By the time the three first years had reached the Slytherin common room, Ara had had enough. Joking around and political arguments hadn't drawn Scorpius out of his shell, and Ara began to worry. If those two tactics didn't work, something was seriously wrong.

"That's bloody enough, Scorpius! You have every right to feel sad, but you have no right to be _this_ ridiculously depressed! Your mom's not dead, for goodness's sake just think about what Rose is going through instead of being so selfish! At least your mom has a chance of recovery! We have to be here for Rose, and I'm not going to allow you to wallow in self-pity because it gets you nowhere, you hear? Hasn't my mom ever told you about her life as an eleven year old? You don't even understand the meaning of losing a loved one, and staying all depressed isn't going to help your mother, your father, Rose, or anyone at all! Just freaking focus on the positive, or all you'll ever be doing is just going to hurt yourself!" Ara ranted. Scorpius stood in front of her, slightly stunned and slightly angry.

"At least _your_ parents are all healthy and functioning! You don't understand what's it's like to even have your parents' safety threatened! You're one to talk, you bloody hypocrite. How do you know what it's like to lose a loved one, huh?" Scorpius shouted back. "Why should you know any better than me? Why do you have the right to tell me how I feel and don't feel? You're not the boss of me, you can't control my feelings, and you don't even know the meaning of loss until you've experienced it, and obviously YOU HAVEN'T!"

"Guys!" Emelda tried to calm the two down and intervene in the growing shouting match. "You're attracting a rather large crowd!" she warned, as a few groups of Slytherin had turned to the shouting fest in interest.

"I DON'T CARE!" both Ara and Scorpius yelled simultaneously, crossing their arms identically.

"You will tomorrow morning! Ara's right on one thing Scorp, wallowing in your self-pity isn't going to get you anywhere. But Ara, Scorp's right on the fact that you can't tell him what to feel or not feel," Emelda mediated. Ara and Scorp huffed, rather comically, at the same time in response to Emelda's logic. "Now before you go and shout at each other again, remember that everything you say to one another will be remembered for a very long time, and be careful in what you say. I say that Scorp is entitled to a day of wimping around all depressed, but after tomorrow, he needs to get his act back together."

"Fine," Ara conceded. "I'm sorry, Scorp, it's just annoying when you shut me off. But you don't get to sacrifice your academic studying because of tomorrow's wimp out session," Ara warned.

"I know, I know," Scorp said tiredly. "I'm sorry, too, Ara. I don't like yelling at you. I think I'm just going to head off to bed, I'm super tired from all of this."

"See you Scorp," Ara acknowledged his apology, and padded off to the girls dormitories, Emelda following Ara's lead.

Scorpius trudged up the stairs to the boys dormitory and scanned the doors along the hallway for his name. Finding his room, Scorpius took a deep breath before pushing the door open, revealing three Slytherin green beds with each boy's trunk at the foot of each bed. Jayce Boot and Gavin Finnegan were already in the midst of unpacking their luggage, but Jayce stood up to greet Scorpius as he entered the room. Gavin, on the other hand, ignored Scorpius's entrance entirely and continued to unpack, his back to the newcomer.

"Hey, you're Scorpius, right?" Jayce inquired, reaching out to offer his hand.

"Yes, that's me. And you are?" Scorpius replied, grasping Jayce's hand firmly.

"Jayce, Jayce Boot. It's nice to meet you."

"Have you watched the James Bond movies?" Scorpius asked curiously, but stopping at the confused look on Jayce's face. "Nevermind, it's a muggle movie series, and the main character introduces himself in the same fashion that you did. But anyways, since when is meeting the son of a reformed Death Eater nice?" Scorpius laughed a little bitterly. "You must be so impressed," he bit out sarcastically.

"Hey, man, from what I've heard, your dad didn't turn out half bad, and you as well. So as long as you don't mess with Clara or any of her friends, if she has any," Jayce snickered, but became serious again. "Then you're good with me," Jayce added, with a hint of a warning, echoing Scorpius's words about Ara earlier in the day.

"Same thing goes for Ara Zabini, mess with her, you mess with me," Scorpius said evenly.

"Right then, so we understand each other," Jayce smiled, and then clapped him on the back. "That's Gavin Finnegan, over there. He hasn't said a word to me, but I remember him from the sorting. Good luck trying to get him to talk to you."

"Hey Gavin, I'm Scorpius..." Scorpius tried to introduce himself, but Gavin acted as if he hadn't heard anyone else in the room. "All right then..."

"Don't worry about it, maybe he's still a little shocked that he was sorted into Slytherin," Jayce grinned. "He'll probably come out of his shell once we get the hang of things around here."

"Right," Scorpius agreed readily. "Jayce, I'm really tired, so I think I'm going to sleep, now. I've had a long day."

"Sure, sure. Before you tuck in, though, do you mind telling me what happened with McGonagall and Rose Weasley? I mean, only if you feel comfortable about telling me, since it seemed pretty darn awful."

"Well..." Scorpius began, but noticed that Gavin Finnegan had finished unpacking and was trying to subtly listen in on the conversation, although he failed to be unnoticeable. "Mate, half of the story isn't really mine to tell, and I think it's probably a big enough issue that you're bound to see it on the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning. I'm just going to crash, after all I am exhausted." Scorpius said with an air of finality, eying Gavin warily.

"That bad, huh? Well, if it applies, I'm sorry for any loss you experience and I hope all works out in the end."

"I don't need anyone's pity, so don't bloody give me any of that trash," Scorpius snapped. Realizing how rude he was being, Scorpius pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a long, deep breath and exhaling slowly. "Jayce, mate, I'm sorry, it's just really stressful are the moment, and I'm very irritable. Sorry."

"I get it, I get it. Just get some rest, and I bet you'll feel tons better."

"How much?" Scorpius asked cheekily, crawling under the covers.

"A Slytherin through and through..." Jayce shook his head. "Go to sleep now, shut up, or I'll knock you out myself," Jayce threatened.

"Night," came the muffled reply from the bed.

On the other side of the Slytherin dormitory, Ara and Emelda had entered the room to find Iridia von Loisson lounging on her bed.

"You must be Iridia! I'm Emelda, and this is Araluen, or Ara," Emelda introduced herself cheerfully. Iridia looked up at the two girls, clearly unimpressed.

"Nice to meet you," Ara grit out, still frustrated with Scorpius.

Iridia looked up, nonplussed. "Whatever," Iridia drawled, returning back to the book she was reading.

"What are you reading?" Emelda asked cautiously, daring to attempt to begin a conversation with another rather frosty person.

"None of your flipping business," Iridia replied shortly, infuriating Emelda to the point where she snapped.

"Look, Iridia, just because you're not in the mood to talk, a simple few sentences could have been much more effective than being a bitch with no manners." Emelda paced around the room. "All I was hoping to accomplish with this conversation was to make life easier for all of us by getting to know each other a little bit. We don't have to be friends, but we will be spending quite a few years together, and I had hoped that we could at the very least, tolerate each other," Emelda ranted.

Iridia snorted simply. "I can tolerate you, so long as you never step, breath, or go anywhere near my belongings, which are all, by the way and for your convenience, are clearly labeled behind this line. Whatever you do, so long as you never cross this line, you'll live your life, and I'll live mine. Easy enough, just leave me alone and I'll leave you alone, too."

"Wow, you really don't have to be such a bitch," Emelda shook her head astounded at Iridia's rudeness.

"And you can go stick your insufferable nose into someone else's business," Iridia snapped back. "Like I said, leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone. So shut up and ignore me, just like everyone does and should!"

"We're just trying to be nice to you, I'm sorry if you really don't want us around at all," Ara said quietly.

"You're exactly right, I don't want you around at all, so just leave me alone," Iridia snapped, and jumped off her bed, taking a book with her. She stormed out of the room, pushing Ara and Emelda on her way out and throwing the door open and closed with a loud slam.

"I had really hoped I wouldn't have to room with a bitch," sighed Emelda. Ara simply shrugged, not voicing her thoughts that Iridia's bitchiness had probably originated from some feeling of inadequacy previous to her experience at Hogwarts. Ara was too tired to do anything else, so she simply crawled into bed, and laid there, thinking about how the world was just so messed up.

Eventually, Alden and Rose returned to the Gryffindor common room, but the truth or dare group had already dispersed. Too tired to do anything else, the two lions went to their respective dormitories and crashed for the night. When Amelia shook Rose awake the next day, Rose frantically burst out of bed, panicking about her failure to read the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook for the fifth time since purchasing it.

"Goodness, Rose," Clara groaned, sitting on top of her bed and pulling on her clothes for the day. "Take a chill pill. Seriously girl, you need to loosen up a bit. I'm surprised you haven't stressed yourself out to death, yet."

"God forbid that Rose forget the forty-second word on page three hundred and forty-three," Amelia laughed sarcastically. "But honestly Rose, don't you think you can just relax for a little bit? With everything that's happened..." Amelia trailed off, knowing that she could easily upset Rose with the wrong choice of words.

"Are you okay?" Clara asked concernedly. "We didn't talk to you for the rest of the night, and you must have come in when we were already asleep."

Rose paused in her frantic multitasking: rereading The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection and packing her book bag, overloaded with colored quills for color coding as well as various muggle stationery items, like matching colored Post-its and a mini-stapler. She glanced over in Clara and Amelia's direction. "Honestly, you two, I'm fine," she briefly answered, and turned back to the eighth chapter.

Amelia huffed and stomped over to Rose, pulling the book out of her hands and throwing it on the bed.

"Hey!" Rose cried, outraged. "That is absolutely no way to treat a book, you disrespectful, illiterate nincompoop!"

"For your information, I am quite literate, thank you very much," Amelia snapped. "And you weren't paying us any attention when all we want to do is help you. Talking about it might help you know, you ungrateful bookworm!"

"I don't want to talk about it," Rose said stubbornly, attempting to make a grab for the textbook, but Amelia anticipated the move and threw the book to Clara.

"Give me back my book," Rose screeched.

"Not until you tell us what's wrong," Clara said evenly, holding the textbook out of Rose's reach.

"My dad bloody died, okay? Are you happy now?" Rose growled, snatching the textbook out of Clara's hands as Clara dropped her arms down in shock.

"I'm sorry," Clara said quietly. Amelia nodded her head in agreement.

"Well thanks, but no thanks. I don't need your bloody pity party," Rose fumed, sticking her textbook into her bag and storming off to the Great Hall for breakfast, still in her disheveled clothes from the previous day.

"I was really hoping it wasn't quite so serious..." Clara said eventually, after a moment's silence.

"Believe me, I think we all were," Amelia said sadly, shaking her head.

In the Great Hall the next morning, the chattering students all received their timetables and were eagerly comparing their schedules. A few reunited couples were snogging each other senseless in the hallways leading up to the Great Hall, much to the dismay of many of the single students that happened to stumble upon them. One of such couples was Elliot Applesmith and Amy Weasley, two sixth year Gryffindors that had, just recently, finally gotten over the friend zone obstacle and were quite contentedly making out. Unfortunately, Caymen Kwasney, a second year Slytherin, and his best friend Lysander Scamander had walked pass a rather noisy broom closet, or also known as the two sixth year lovebirds, in the middle of their make out session. Glancing at the other, Caymen motioned a sticking charm between the couple, where their mouths were attached. Lysander quietly shook his head, whispering how it would be too hard to breath, to which Caymen scoffed. They ended up agreeing on a body sticking charm, which would prove interesting for both Elliot and Amy as their hands were all over each other.

The two Slytherins, having done their research on pranks and all the spells necessary to make them happen, cast a few disillusionment and silencing charms on each other, and crept up quietly to the couple. Then, they cast the spell, which took effect immediately. Cleverly, however, Caymen had modified the spell to only work on the hands, which proved problematic when Elliot tried to move his hand out from under Amy's shirt. Realising something was wrong, Elliot broke the kiss and looked down at his hand.

"Amy, are you just really sweaty, or is my hand stuck to you?"

Amy frowned. "Way to ruin the moment, Elliot, by telling a girl she's sweaty," Amy snapped, trying to move away from him, but finding that she couldn't. "What did you do?" she exclaimed, becoming frantic. "Elliot! What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" he responded, tugging on his hand. He continued to pull, but to no avail. "What did you cover yourself in? Whatever lotion you put on, it's really not that great."

"Could you quit insulting me and just get your bloody hand out of my shirt? You're a terrible boyfriend! Ugh! I can't believe this. This is exactly what my mother warned me about!"

"Let's make a deal, you don't insult me, then I won't insult you. Okay?"

"Elliot!" Amy screeched.

"Shh, shh, shh," he tried to comfort her, but Amy and her infamous Weasley temper got the better of her.

"This is abuse! You're such a pig! For Merlin's sake, how hard can it be to get your hand off of me?"

"It's a whole lot harder than you would expect. I think we'll have to go get someone, like Madam Pomfrey, to unstick us."

"You planned this all out!" Amy accused. "Madame Pomfrey doesn't even work at this school anymore, she retired years ago! Do you enjoy humiliating people? I bet you and Connor planned this whole thing out in order to embarrass me in front of the entire school, as well as all of the teachers. My mum will kill me if she ever catches wind of this!"

"Merlin, girl, relax. So long as Professor Pucey doesn't run into us on our way there, we might get a few strange looks, but that's no big deal."

Unfortunately, just at that moment, Professor Pucey walked right past the slightly ajar broom closet where they had been snogging, and opened the door at the sound of her name. She gave her infamous death glare, but then smiled creepily.

"Now, my dears, where exactly were you headed and who didn't want to run into me on the way there?" Professor Pucey smiled like a Cheshire cat after catching and destroying its prey.

Elliot visibly gulped. "Well, Professor, I was helping Amy... get an itchy spot for her..." he attempted to improvise, but failed rather miserably.

"That's clearly why, especially since she cannot reach that particular spot next to her breast, am I right? Seriously, at least try to make your lies believable. That was pathetic."

Amy remained silent.

"Well, Mr. Applesmith and Ms. Weasley, I will sadly have to inform your parents about your current predicament. If you could kindly remove your hands from each other..."

"We can't... Professor, that's the thing. I've tried, believe me, but there is some sort sticking charm," Amy tried to explain.

But by the time that this point in the conversation had been reached, Lysander and Caymen had removed the charm, quietly snickering.

"Really, is that so, Ms. Weasley? Why don't the both of you try again?" Professor Pucey drawled, looking on and clearly unimpressed. "Perhaps you didn't try hard enough the first time. Maybe my presence will be a suitable motivator."

"But Professor, we've already tried," Elliot began to protest.

"Well, try again!" the Professor snapped back.

Amy frowned, and at the same time, Amy and Elliot gave two strong tugs, and separated extremely easily. No longer connected, they crashed to the ground, upsetting the various brooms in the closet as well as Filch's cleaning supplies.

"It appears that your sticking charm only required a suitable motivating factor. Now, that wasn't so hard, now was it?"

Amy stared at Elliot's hands worriedly, completely befuddled.

"Oh, Professor, it seriously wasn't that easy before. I don't understand! We kept trying it before, but-" Elliot stuttered confusedly.

"Shut up!" Amy hissed. Do you realize how much trouble we are in? I'm a prefect! This was all your idea!"

"It's not like it wasn't consensual," Elliot protested, earning himself a slap on the arm.

"I'm sure it was. Now, I'm afraid I'll have to inform your parents of your current predicament, and you'll have to follow me to my office for a brief description of your detention for the next few days," the professor stated.

"Oh no, my mum's going to go batty when she hears of this. And on the first day of school, where I AM a prefect! I am so dead. Oh my Merlin, oh my Merlin, I am so beyond screwed!" Amy began to hyperventilate.

"Ms. Weasley, please kindly shut your mouth and follow me," Professor Pucey grit out.

"Just do what she says," Elliot said quietly, under his breath, latching onto Amy's sleeve and dragging her after the professor.

"But, but, but, but..." Amy could be heard repeatedly protesting against the punishments listed.

Lysander and Caymen emerged from the broom closet moments later, laughing hard.

"Did you see the look on her face?" Lysander guffawed.

"Priceless!" Caymen agreed.

"We should do that more often. But we need to plan our entrance into breakfast this morning."

"Plan? Hah, that's for amateurs, Lysand. We're second years, we improvise! Well, _I_ improvise," Caymen shook his head disdainfully. "Oh Lysander, Lysander," Caymen smiled as they approached the double doors to the Great Hall. "You go in first, and we'll have a competition on the best entrance, sound good?"

"Good luck then, mate. You didn't see the food fight yesterday since you came in late. That was my entrance, so let's see if you can top that," Lysander challenged.

"We'll see then, we'll see," Caymen grinned. "Go on in now!"

Lysander obliged, opening the doors and slipping inside. Caymen double checked the corridor to see if anyone was around, before muttering several spells that would release once Caymen stepped inside the Great Hall. Double checking once more that there were no more students on their way to breakfast, Caymen then pushed the doors open.

The Great Hall suddenly quieted, as all of the candles and lights had gone out and darkened the room, leaving Caymen's silhouette the only thing visible. As he entered the hall, hundreds of fireworks exploded into snakes, slithering through the air, eliciting a few girlish shrieks of surprise. After a few moments, however, the snakes disappeared in a cloud of smoke, covering the entire room. Caymen, with a flick of his wand, announced in an amplified voice, "CAYMEN KWASNEY... IS IN THE HOUSE!" at the same time clearing the air of smoke and returning the lights.

"All right kids, go back to eating your breakfast. It's okay, I'm here," he said smugly, sneering at the Gryffindors who had jumped to their feet with their wands out. "Don't worry, I'm sure the big, bad, Gryffindors will protect everyone from harm, anyways. Oh, and please let Mr. Lysander Scamander and me know which entrance you preferred, his weeny little food fight or my epic, dramatic arrival."

The Gryffindors all rolled their eyes, a few of them sending silencing charms in Caymen's direction, who easily dodged them or blocked them and any other stray hexes. He ignored them easily, heading straight for Lysander at the Slytherin's table.

Professor McGonagall, who had allowed the harmless prank to continue without any interference, sighed, knowing that she would have to give a minor punishment to the talented second year, if only to keep up appearances. Professor Longbottom smiled, knowing exactly what was going through McGonagall's mind.

"Minerva, I know you don't want to give Mr. Kwasney a punishment, but you _do_ know what the repercussions would be."

"Neville, don't remind me, please," she stated simply. "I'll just talk to him during my class, I do have him sometime today."

"You have to admit, though, these first and second years are showing an incredible amount of promise, thus far," Neville continued, sipping his pumpkin juice.

"Yes, I know. It's very interesting, how many of them are able to control their magic at such a young age. You think I didn't notice Ms. Zabini's spell yesterday? Quite powerful and well controlled, I might add. I do believe that was her first spell ever casted, and it outstripped even Mr. Scamander's attempt at the same spell."

"Have you spoken with the Sorting Hat, recently?" Neville asked suddenly.

"Not since the day before yesterday, why?" she turned to face him, interested.

"Well, ever since I've become a professor, I've always enjoyed talking to the hat after the sorting. Usually it picks out future Head couples, future prefects, or even future spouses. However, this time around, the hat had a few particular things to say about several of our first years, namely Araluen Zabini, Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Potter, and Rose Weasley."

"Really? I've never really spoken with the hat at length before. Has it been successful in its predictions?"

"For most cases, yes, but there are a few exceptions. Everything so far since the Second Wizarding War has held true, but during Harry and my generation, obviously some things were disrupted with various deaths or interruptions in our seventh years. There's only really been one case where it's been down right wrong."

"Do tell."

"It seriously thought that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy would make a splendid couple."

McGonagall snorted. "How likely. That brat of a boy was more than ridiculously atrocious to her, and with that sort of history, there is no way, even with magic, that the two could end up together. I am interested, though, what the hat had to say about our first years."

"It claims that their powerful parentage will lend the four to do amazing things, and that Sybil would soon create a prophecy that would pertain to those four."

"How amazing is amazing?"

"Like, come up with counter curses to the Unforgivables type amazing. Cure the magical world of the most lethal diseases. Purge the world of all dark wizards," Neville whispered. "That's the potential that these four have."

"Four," Professor McGonagall muttered, lost in thought. "Four like the four houses in Hogwarts. Four like a four leaf clover," she suddenly straightened. "But why isn't there one first year from each house, then?"

"I asked the hat that as well, but it only said that two of the four could have just as easily been Ravenclaws, so that house is doubly compensated for."

"Araluen and Rose," McGonagall stated immediately. "Easily."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Create counter curses to the Unforgivables? That's quite a feat..." McGonagall pondered. Neville nodded.

"I don't wonder that the hat isn't wrong on this one. I mean, sure, they might be very powerful and even more powerful together, but counter curses to things like the death curse? How could that be possible?" Neville asked, tapping his finger on his goblet. "I think the hat over exaggerated."

"I'd have to agree," McGonagall said, sweeping her gaze over the four first years. "Well, I guess we'll see, anyways."

"So, Scorp, what order do you have your classes in?" Emelda asked cheerily.

"Uhh..." Scorpius rifled through his book bag, searching for the discarded parchment. "Let's see, well, on Monday, first is Charms, then second is Defense Against the Dark Arts, and after lunch, I have a double block for Potions. Tuesday is a double block for Transfiguration, and then History of Magic and Astronomy. Wednesday is a double block for Defense Against the Dark Arts, then Herbology and Flying. Thursday has Potions, History of Magic, then a double block for Charms. Friday has Herbology double block, Transfiguration, and Astronomy."

"Well, for all of the History of Magic and Astronomy classes, we're the same. For all of the other classes, we sometimes swap. Transfiguration and Charms I think replace each other, but Potions and DADA are the same," Emelda replied, scrutinizing her timetable. "What about you, Ara? What does your schedule look like?"

"It's exactly the same as Scorpius's besides swapping History of Magic and Astronomy. I thought that houses used to all stick together in their classes for first year..." Ara stated perplexed. "I guess they have changed it so there's more intermingling?"

"Maybe," Scorpius shrugged offhandedly. "I just hope that all of our classes are interesting, well at least , mildly so."

"How are your roommates, Scorp?" Emelda inquired.

"I think Jayce Boot and I will be really great friends, but that Gavin Finnegan guy is really frosty."

"We had the same experience with Iridia von Loisson. Just a complete prat," Emelda complained as all of the owls flew in.

Each of the Slytherins received an envelope, but while Emelda and Araluen opened their packages eagerly, Scorpius took a while longer, staring at the envelope. The envelope was a creamy white, staring up at him with a dark green cursive handwriting that spelled out his name clearly. Ara, smiling from her father's ridiculous joke made about the Gryffindors, giggled and turned to give her mother and father's love to Scorpius. Seeing the wary look in Scorpius's eyes, Ara stopped, her smile fading.

"Scorp? You all right? You haven't even opened your envelope," Ara pointed out worriedly.

"I know, I know, but... Ara, how could this happen?"

"What happened?"

"How could she have written this?" he asked apprehensively. "She's in a coma! How could she have written me a letter that was delivered today? Is she okay? Did she come out of her coma? Or did she die? And is this a letter she wrote before her death? I don't know if it has bad news, or good news!"

"Maybe she began writing it before she even went to King's Cross yesterday with you? I don't know, why don't you open it and find out?" Ara suggested, grabbing his hand and placing the envelope into his palm. Scorpius shakily broke the Malfoy seal, pulling the thick parchment out.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_I know it might seem silly, after all I am writing this before we even drop you off. I don't even know what house you'll be in, but I have an odd feeling that for some reason, compels me to write this now rather than later. I'm fairly certain you'll be in Slytherin, just like your father and I were. I'd actually be rather shocked if you aren't, after all, what would your grandparents say? All of those years of Malfoy and Greengrass purity, not a single one of them yet a Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Merlin forbid, Hufflepuff. It does become tiresome, having to hear about our perfect bloodlines, but I do hope you give our family no reason to continue their purist rants._

_Anyways, your father gives his love, well he hasn't explicitly stated this, especially since he doesn't know I'm writing this letter, but I'm sure he does. And I as well. I wish the best of luck to you in your studies at Hogwarts, and I hope that you don't have too hard of a time. Make the Malfoys proud, my boy, and remember your mother._

_On a more solemn note, my boy, you now know and understand what hardships your father and I had to face during our time at Hogwarts, and we both hope you make better choices than we did at your age. I hope you aren't pegged for being the son of a man who made the wrong choices, when he was merely a child. Stay strong, my son, and keep your friends close and do cherish them._

_Your mother,_

_Astoria Malfoy_

Scorpius teared up a little at the end, gratefully squeezing Ara's hand when she offered it. As Scorpius was about to put the parchment back into the envelope, Ara snatched away the envelope, seeing a small piece of paper still inside.

"Ara, what are you doing? What-"

"Look, it's a note from your dad, Scorp."

Scorpius took the small note with his father's hurried scrawl, and scrutinized it, trying to make sense of the scribbles.

_Dear Scorp,_

_Congratulations on being in Slytherin, though I wouldn't have really cared, so long as you weren't a Hufflepuff. I found this letter in your mother's pocket last night, so I thought you'd like to hear from her. I know that she would be very proud of you. Best of luck, and win the house cup, all right? Beat those Gryffindors!_

_Love,_

_Dad_

"Well, I guess that explains it," Ara said timidly, uncertain of Scorpius's reaction.

"Yeah," Scorpius said in a bittersweet tone. Before Ara could respond, the bell rung, and Scorpius shoved the letter into his book bag, leaving the table to head off to the Charms classroom. Ara sighed, and followed him out of the hall, separating from Emelda who was eagerly chatting with Jayce as they left for Transfiguration.

Once Scorpius and Ara entered the Charms classroom, Rose spotted them and waved them over to where she was sitting.

"Hey you two, I'm so glad we have a class together!" Rose squealed a little too excitedly.

"Us, too, right Scorp?" Area replied, nudging Scorpius.

Scorpius simply made a noncommittal grunt, still mulling over the contents of his father's and mother's letters. Ara sighed, knowing it would be at least thirty minutes until Scorpius could focus on something besides the letters. Ara observed Rose's disheveled appearance, and voiced her thoughts aloud.

"Rose, you look kind of mussed up. Did you sleep okay? Late start?" Ara guessed.

"Well, it wasn't the easiest night, you could say. I kinda just fell into bed, after being so... distressed and all. I woke up late, too, so I just ended up coming straight to breakfast, and here I am."

"You sure you're okay there?" asked Ara concernedly. "Sounds like a rough night. I heard something happened yesterday... but no one knows what."

"I'd prefer not to talk about it," Rose said stiffly.

Before Ara could pester her further, Professor Flitwick's shrill voice interrupted any additional conversation, starting the class. "Welcome to Hogwarts, class, and welcome to first year Charms! In this class, we will be learning the wondrous art of charms and their applications. We will be doing a few modest test-" at this word, Rose began to hyperventilate, to which Scorpius rolled his eyes, "-s throughout the week, to allow for advanced placement. It is a new educational model we are trying out here in Charms, since we've seen many first years that already have had a jump start for their personal defense."

Rose's hand shot up in the air. The Professor chuckled, obviously reminded of Hermione's eagerness a decade or so before. "Yes, Ms. Weasley?"

"Are we going to know when these exams are and what they entail?"

"No, Ms. Weasley, I believe you misunderstand the format and purpose of these exams."

"Well, could you explain, Professor?"

"Yes, yes of course. This year, since it's my last year teaching Charms before I retire, I decided to cater more to the individual student's needs, which will be dictated by the observations I make during the course of this week. When you are practicing various charms, I will be watching and evaluating the level of skill each student has reached. At the end of the week, I will group students together based upon their skill level, and from then on I would divide up time during our periods together between the different levels to allow for more individualized teaching."

"Do you know how many levels you will have?"

"Not yet, for I haven't gotten to see anyone attempting a charm yet, have I? So without further ado, let us begin with the well known charm, Wingardium Leviosa. Without your wands class, repeat after me, please. Wingardium Leviosa, that's it! Make sure together the pronunciation correct. Mr. Malfoy, please say it with me, come on now."

"Wingardium leviosa," Scorpius drawled lazily, in such a way that several of the other girls in the class giggled obnoxiously.

"Good, now we may all use our wands, but be careful, now. All together now, ready? Wingardium Leviosa!"

Ara, Scorpius, and Rose managed it easily, levitating the feathers far above the desks.

"Good, good, Ms. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, and..." Professor Flitwick praised, trailing off as he looked expectantly at Ara.

"Araluen Zabini," she supplied, to which Professor Flitwick grinned widely.

"Excellently done, Ms. Zabini. Please give your parents my kindest regards, and same to you Ms. Weasley and... Mr. Malfoy," he added, almost as an afterthought. Turning back to Ara, he smiled, "I hear your mother was doing some interesting work with counter memory charms, and did succeed in aiding Ms. Weasley's mother over here. Both of your mothers were incredibly accomplished, although I have to say I've unfortunately never been able to take any credit for your mothers' brilliance," he continued, slightly distracted and then moved on to help a different group of students who were failing miserably.

"Looks like someone's already a teacher's pet," Scorpius snarked as soon as the professor was out of hearing range.

"Oh hush you, you know you're just jealous," Ara teased.

"Jealous of what, a few words of 'praise' from a short, stubby, little, old man? Please, Ara, don't be ridiculous," he sneered.

"You're just in denia-" Rose began, but was cut off by a sudden explosion, followed by several girlish screams. The entire class turned to look at the source of the explosion, finding that Gavin Finnegan managed to, much like his father, explode his feather, although it appeared to be rather problematic for the annoying Hufflepuff girl next to him, who received the majority of the impact. Instead of looking shocked, or even grim, as would be expected, Finnegan's face was composed in a cool, neutral mask, showing no emotion. Ara nudged Scorpius, and whispered into his ear.

"Do you think that was intentional?"

"I can't tell, and that's what worries me..." he whispered back.

"What are you all whispering about?" Rose said altogether too loudly, several students turning to look at them.

"Bloody, noisy, stupid, dismal, irritatingly obnoxious Gryffindorks," Scorpius muttered under his breath.

"Oh, we were just wondering if there were any charms that would counteract the explosion, possibly repairing the feather," Ara said smoothly, not missing a beat. The rest of the class returned to their attempts to make the feathers fly.

"Well, there wasn't much reason then to whisper it, is there?"

"Rose..." Scorpius tsk'ed. "You seriously need to learn the art of Slytherin subtlety. Your Gryffindor 'bravado' will get you in tons of trouble."

"So then teach me!" she huffed.

"We will, but your first lesson is on keeping your voice way down, you sounded like a bloody firebell in the middle of the night!" Scorpius scolded.

"Well sorry that I didn't know about the sudden need to be quiet. Sheez," Rose snapped back, under her breath.

"Anyways, did you notice the look that Gavin Finnegan had on his face after the explosion?" Ara attempted to diffuse the tension boiling between the Malfoy and Weasley.

"No, what about him?" Rose turned to face Ara, completely ignoring Scorpius.

"He had no expression, it was just this very neutral and cold mask, it almost seemed like a solemn statue," Scorpius butted in.

"Don't most Slytherins have that same emotionless mask on all the time?" Rose asked confusedly.

"Yeah, but most purebloods, or at least those with a lot of interaction with that elitist community, like Ara and me, learn to read the eyes and subtleties in a mask that deciphers the true emotion behind the mask. Younger children don't really master the art of the mask that's apparent at Gavin's level, and few adults get to the point where their eyes seem soulless." Scorpius explained.

"What do you mean when you say that his eyes are soulless? How do you look for that? And how does that have to do with anything?" Rose fired question after question.

"It means that they seem dead, with no spark of anger, excitement, happiness, or even sadness can be seen. It's inhuman, and that's what the whole point is. If Finnegan didn't have any reaction to the explosion, which was incredibly sudden," Ara began and waited expectantly for Rose to follow and complete the thought.

The light dawned in Rose's eyes. "Then why wouldn't he be surprised, unless he did intentionally explode the feathers or knew what would happen?"

"Exactly, good girl, Rosie," Scorpius sarcastically applauded. Ara smacked him on the arm, glaring at the blonde git.

"That was exactly what we were wondering. Scorp here had been telling me all about how Gavin was really quiet yesterday, but seemed very interested in observing rather than interacting," Ara held up her hand at Rose, who had just begun talking. "Let me finish-" and Rose fell silent. "At first, we thought that maybe he was just homesick or something, or even that he was tired, but today, he still was perfectly masked. There's just something off about Finnegan, and it's scary how well he's mastered the pureblood mask when I doubt his family has even spoken to a snobby pureblood unless they had to."

Ara then lowered her hand, allowing Rose to speak, but Rose merely pondered the two Slytherins' observations.

"Whatever, you two suck ups. We'll keep an eye on him and you two can go back to being teacher's pets. Does that sound all right?"

"What broomstick do you have up your arse?" Rose snapped, clearly annoyed that her pondering time had been interrupted.

"The very newest Lougée and Thapa iBroom Nano."

"The what?"

"Oh forget it you hopeless halfblood." To that, Ara, who had already begun picking up useful hexes from Lysander, sent a strong stinging hex towards Scorpius's shoulder, who yelped at the force of the hex. Normal stinging hexes? No problem for Scorpius Malfoy. Araluen Zabini's stinging hexes? A world of pain.

"Sorry, Rose," Scorpius apologized bleakly, under Ara's glare of disappointment. "What I meant to say, was the that the Lougée and Thapa iBroom Nano is the newest addition to Chandler Lougée-Finch-Fletchley's collection for one of the American team's seekers: Laura Thapa- well now Laura Jordan."

"Oh those brooms! My dad says those outstrip the 2012 Doomsday brooms, and we know how fast those are!" Rose exclaimed excitedly, but then froze at the mention of her dad as her words sunk in. Tearing up a little, she quickly excused herself to go to the bathroom, bursting out of the Charms classroom. Ara and Scorpius looked at each other, completely bewildered.

**AN: REVIEW PLEASE! How do you like Caymen, Elliot, Amy, and the disturbing Gavin Finnegan? Don't you just love Professor Natasha Pucey? Thoughts on how amazing our four main children our going to be? Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_Snapping into the white walls of St Mungo's hospital..._

Alex clutched Draco's arm tightly after apparating, cursing his laziness and rusty apparation technique. She took a few minutes to get her bearings, fighting the urge to throw up.

"Draco, you really need to brush up on your apparation technique. I remember that you were the best in silent apparation of the four of us, any you used to do it without making it so nauseating!" Alex complained.

"Do we really have to talk about this now? We aren't in a bloody war, in case you couldn't tell. You're not throwing up, so I'd call it an overall success."

"Drac-" Alex began, but was cut off by him throwing a silencing charm her way. She glared at him, wordlessly disabling the charm, but respected his wishes for her to be quiet. He snatched her arm and dragged her over to the lift, arriving at the fourth floor.

"You have arrived at the fourth floor at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Spell damage," a voice announced overhead. As soon as the doors opened, Draco was walking briskly to the right, passing a sign that directed them towards the Unknown Curses ward.

They passed several doors until they arrived at the room with Astoria Malfoy on the door. Draco was shaking slightly, and Alex gripped his hand to steady him. He shot her a bittersweet smile, and then entered the room. Astoria lay in the bed, eyes shut as if she were sleeping. Several monitors kept track of her heart rate and blood oxygen levels, as well as other vitals. Alex smiled softly.

"I'm glad to see they've taken a page or two out of the Muggle's books," she whispered. Draco ignored her and sat down in the chair next to Astoria's bed. "Who's Astoria's healer?" Alex asked him.

He furrowed his brows in concentration. "I think it was... something Davies. Helen? Harriet? Something with an H. Roger Davies' wife, that Ravenclaw bloke."

"Hannah?" Alex exclaimed excitedly. "Draco, your wife is in the best of hands, in that case. Hannah Davies is an excellent healer and is one of the best ranked researchers in the world, too."

"Well thank you, Mrs. Zabini," Hannah laughed as she entered the room. "Mr. Malfoy, and Mrs. Zabini, it's a pleasure to meet you both. Did you have any questions regarding Astoria's health, or are you just visiting?"

"We're doing both, actually. Have you figured out what curse hit Astoria, or how to wake her up somehow?" asked Draco.

"Like I said last night, Mr. Malfoy, it's not a known curse, or else we would have figured it out by now. Since it was wordless, as you had explained yesterday, there's no exact wording that created this spell. It wasn't a normal spell, rather it was the thoughts going through Mr. Flint's mind that eventually channeled his magic and ended up hitting your wife. It was intended to be malicious, and this is the result of such magic. Until we can decipher the nature of the curse, and what the thoughts were when Mr. Flint attacked Astoria, there's not much we can do to help her," Hannah explained patiently.

"Have you attempted to wake her up with the basic reawakening spells?" Alex asked.

"Our first nurses tried _Ennervate, Finite Incantatum,_ and _Relashio_, but nothing seems to have had an effect so far."

"Have you brought in any curse breakers?"

"We've contacted Gringotts to see if they could spare anyone, but you know how goblins are. They just weren't cooperative, refusing to contact any of their employees. The best curse breakers are working for Gringotts, and they wouldn't give us a list of curse breakers either."

"Well, my husband has contacted Bill Weasley, who is a curse breaker who works for Gringotts, as well as Professor Natasha Pucey, whose initial career was curse breaking. I thought they might take a look over, if that's okay?"

"Normally, my answer would be no. In order to bring outside people to aid in the healing, there is a huge legal process we'd have to go through, with liabilities and all that wonderful stuff. However, this not really a normal circumstance. I'll still have to speak with our Department Head Council, but hopefully we can get them approved relatively quickly."

"How quick is 'relatively quick'?" Alex asked concernedly.

"The soonest I can guarantee is two weeks," Hannah sighed.

"Two weeks?" Draco exclaimed frustratedly, jumping up out of his seat. "And that's just legal proceedings? What if _you _were to contact Weasley and Pucey, as a St Mungo's employee?"

"I'd still have to go through the same process, which thankfully has already been partially started."

"Is there any way we can speed up the process?" Alex asked, frowning slightly.

"I can't guarantee anything. If Mr. Malfoy here is willing to sign off on St Mungo's liability with these two curse breakers, we might stand a better chance of getting them in within a week."

"What if we were to get a lawyer to draft up a liability form that Draco can sign so that St Mungo's is in no way responsible for any of the repercussions that may result from the curse breakers? If we could do that by the end of today, would it be possible to bring them in tomorrow? Or sometime sooner than a week?" Alex suggested, thinking of Hermione as the first go-to lawyer.

"Granger is a Defense of Magical Creatures lawyer. She doesn't deal with liability cases," Draco stated before Hannah could answer, clearly understanding what Alex was thinking.

"Yeah she does, all the time. Witches and wizards who own various magical creatures have to sign various contracts, liability waivers, etcetera. She knows the language that goes into one," Alex explained her train of thought, and Draco shrugged.

"Would it work?" he asked Hannah.

"It might work. Again, Mr. Malfoy, there's no guarantee, but it most certainly doesn't hurt, and it will probably help," she answered. Glancing at her watch, her eyes widened and she began doing a few check ups on Astoria's vitals.

"Any other questions? I'll be back around... nine-ish at night, so you can hand off the liability waiver to me if you visit later tonight."

"I think we're good for now. We'll try our best to get that to you soon. Did you need anything else, Draco?" Alex turned to him as he sat back down heavily into his chair.

"No, I think that's all for now," he sighed.

"Well, don't hesitate to send me an owl if you do. See you later tonight!" Hannah called over her shoulder as she bustled into the next room.

"I think we need to interrogate a certain Marcus Flint," Alex stated after Hannah had left the room.

"Most definitely agreed. Maybe we can figure out what his thoughts were, and then use that to break the curse on Astoria," Draco sighed heavily. "Alex, what happens if she doesn't wake up?"

"Hey there, that's no way to think. Even if she doesn't, you just have to heal and move on." Alex sat down next to Draco in the chair next to the monitors, placing her hand on his right forearm.

"How can you heal when something that is so important dies? When you feel so guilty? When you don't and will never have any closure with that person?"

"Why do you feel guilty? What do you have to feel guilty for? "

"I mean, she deserved to find true love. Of all the people from Slytherin, if anyone deserved to find true love, it would be her. And look at how many people found true love. I mean, look at Parkinson and Flint. If anyone didn't deserve love, it would be them, and yet they found it. And even if I she couldn't provide it for me, oh I don't know, maybe I could have tried to love her."

"Do you really think that even if you tried, you would have been able to love her like you do Hermione?"

"No, never."

"So then what makes you think that if you did attempt to, that you could be successful at it? It would never be the same as her receiving the affection from Ron."

"Ugh. I don't know, all right? She just deserves more than she got... and I don't know how I'd manage without her. We were never really in love, but I still care about her and we've grown dependent on each other! I'd feel guilty taking up her entire life when I couldn't give her that love, and she couldn't give me my love. How did you do it, Alex? How did you heal with so much guilt?"

Alex leaned back a little and sighed. "For a few years, I didn't heal. The wound just festered and dragged me deep down into depression, to the point where I was reduced to crying every night when no one could see. But time really does heal all wounds. After four or so years, I was through. I had paid my time in the dark, and then I could move on. You eventually realize what tomorrow signifies, and that the person who has passed away wouldn't wish that depression on you. Instead, you begin to find it as a source of strength, or a reason for all that you do.

"They become your reason, your motivation for doing things that you might not have done otherwise. You change for the better, sometimes, because of them and their passing. You eventually find closure, even though they may always be in your thoughts. But the point is, you find hope in their death, and use that hope to help others and yourself. There never goes a year where their absence isn't noted, but you know that you'll always be forever devoted."

"I just hope that she eventually gets better, but I don't know if she will even try. With Ron gone, what's the point of her living? She and I only live for Scorpius and the rare times we can see the people we truly love. She believes in destiny, despite the fact that I don't. Maybe she thinks that since Ron died, it's her fate to die, too, in order for her to be with him."

"Draco, you are not making one bit of sense. Whatever happens, happens. Don't bother worrying about what will happen, because it will just make you crazy. Stop worrying, and we just have to be optimistic, okay?"

Draco sighed, and put his head on Alex's shoulder. "You know what? You're right. I'm just sick with worry."

That was how Daphne and Theo found the two when they walked in moments later. Daphne knocked on the door, and Draco and Alex turned to look at the couple.

"Hey Daphne, Theo," Alex acknowledged. "How are you holding up?"

"It's been a rough night," Daphne replied. "I heard that Ara and Scorp made it into Slytherin with Emelda."

"Yup, let Emelda know we give our congratulations and love," Alex responded.

"How is Tori doing?" Theo asked, walking closer to the hospital bed.

"There hasn't been any change in her unconscious state, and we are trying to bring in some curse breakers to see if they can figure anything out," Draco stated tonelessly.

"Is there nothing anyone can do for her?" Daphne asked sadly, joining Theo on the side of Astoria's bed.

"We are also going to interrogate Marcus Flint to see if by knowing what thoughts he had when he casted the curse, we can attempt to create or find some sort of counter curse," Alex added.

"Oh and Draco, just a warning, but our in-laws will be walking in any time, now," Theo informed Draco with a small chuckle. Draco immediately stiffened, holding on to the chair arm tightly.

"Griffith and Emma? I haven't spoken to either of my in-laws for... well years. Since Scorpius was born, we have not had any real contact. I mean, every year they send Scorpius a birthday present, but we have successfully avoided them otherwise. For good reason, too," Draco muttered.

"Well, speak of the devil," Alex mumbled as the elder Greengrass couple walked in the doorway.

"Draco! Darling boy, we haven't seen you for years!" Emma Greengrass gushed, enveloping a very unwilling Draco in a tight embrace. He grunted as she squeezed him, gasping for breath as she released him. She turned to Theo, her grand smile fading slightly. "Theodore," she acknowleged stiffly.

"Still a prejudiced bigot then, Mrs. Greengrass?" he replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, no, Mr. Nott, I just give respect to tthose who deserve it," she replied icily.

"So basically, people who have a large inheritance sum or who have married into one, yes?"

"I can sit here debating all day those who have class... and those who do not," she looked down her nose at Theo. "Alas, I am here to inquire on my _daughter's_ behalf, although I must congratulate Emelda's entrance into Slytherin. Apparently your incompetency as a suitable husband and father was not so horrible as to influnce your _daughter's_ placement into a lesser house."

"I am glad that you think so highly of your grandchild," Theo fired back.

"Which reminds me, Draco dearest. Congratulations on Scorpius's entrance into Slytherin. Obviously you and Astoria have the right mindset in parenting." Draco merely nodded meakly.

The other occupants in the room had been shifting uncomfortably, especially Draco. Mr. Griffith Greengrass sighed heavily, having long given up trying to persuade his wife to take a more open-minded approach to lower class society. Alex and Theo were bristling at Mrs. Greengrass's blatant prejudice, whereas Draco composed himself. Despite his calm outward appearance, his anger was apparent in his stormy grey eyes.

"I appreciate your congratulations. I will pass them onto Scorpius when I next owl him."

Daphne looked down, disappointed that her mother continued to ignore her presence despite the fact that it had been years since her marriage and her daughter's birth. She caught Alex's sympathetic gaze, and blushed, ashamed that the Asian girl seemed to know exactly what,she was thinking.

"Mother..." Daphne began, but her mother whirled on her, fury igniting her eyes.

"You haven't been my daughter since you married that fool! No daughter of mine would degrade herself to such a lowly husband!"

Daphne shook her head, eyes watering, and left the room. Griffith sighed, following Daphne out of the room, despite Emma's shrill protests.

"Griffith! Come back here this instant! Do not condone her ridiculous actions!" she shrilly called, stomping her foot down. Draco and Alex shared a miserable glance.

"That's it. I'm out of here," Theo announced.

"Good," Emma spat as he brushed past her. "There's a good reason that you weren't blessed with a male heir!"

"Are you seriously that old-fashioned?" Alex asked, shaking her head in disappointment.

"Old-fashioned?" She rounded then on Alex, who squirmed ever so slightly under her appraising gaze. "You clearly haven't been raised properly, you uncivilized American. You just don't understand the importance of bearing a male heir," Emma spat disdainfully.

"That's enough!" Draco roared. "You need to wake up and take a look around, Mrs. Greengrass. The world doesn't work like that anymore, and you'll just be making more and more enemies if you continue on like this. There is a reason why we haven't had contact in years, and until you change your perspective on things like this, we won't have any contact!" he shouted at a stunned Emma Greengrass.

"Goodbye Mrs. Greengrass. And please, hesitate to ever enter our lives again," Draco grit out, pulling on Alex's arm and disapparating them to the Manor.

"I cannot believe she had the audacity to do that to Daphne and Theo. What kind of mother would do that?" Alex exclaimed clearly disturbed.

"I hope you two are talking about Mrs. Emma Greengrass, as opposed to me or Theodore's mother," Narcissa Malfoy commented airily from one of the arm chairs in the living room that Draco had apparated into.

"Yes, mother, we were discussing my mother in-law," Draco confirmed, giving Narcissa a kiss on the cheek.

"That woman is a rather dreadful old witch," she nodded. "Alex my dearest, it has been simply too long!"

"It has," Alex agreed, accepting the embrace Narcissa offered her.

"I trust all is well with your family? I heard that Ara as well as our mischievous Scorp have both been placed into Slytherin. Congratulations!" Narcissa exclaimed cheerfully.

"Yes, Zayden has been doing well at his elementary school, and Blaise is his old, cheeky self still. Mommy and Daddy are currently in St Petersburg; my mom finally convinced my dad to go see the Hermitage and other various Russian attractions," Alex informed Narcissa.

Narcissa nudged Draco. "Are you regretting yet that _you_ didn't marry Alex? Her parents are just angels!"

"Albeit a bit weird," Alex chuckled.

"Anyways, Mother, I just wanted to update you on Astoria's health. There has not been any changes, but we are trying to bring in a few curse breakers to see if they can get anywhere, and we are also going to interrogate Flint to get an idea of what he was thinking when he hit Astoria with that spell."

"Well, all we can do is hope for the best," Narcissa stated with a tone of finality. "Now, Alex, will you stay for lunch?"

"Sorry Narcissa, but I promised Blaise that I'd meet him for lunch. We have to get prepped for a conference call with Italy, and I wanted to double check that everything's all set to go. Actually Narcissa, I should go right about now," Alex said, looking at her watch.

"All right love. We should go out for coffee sometime soon, we have not had the chance to really have a nice talk for years!"

"I will owl you, and we can schedule something. Life always gets in the way. See you later, you two!" Alex hugged both of the Malfoys and apparated to work.

"You should be insanely jealous of Blaise and Ron, my dear," Narcissa sighed, standing up and walking to the dining room.

"You know that Alex has always been a good _friend _of mine, mother!" Draco called after retreating figure before following after her. His mother jokingly said something about his obsession with a certain bushy haired bookworm, but he was too far away to catch it.

"Besides," he mumbled under his breath, "I have always been jealous of the Weasel."

As Alex and Draco apparated into St Mungo's hospital, Hermione was getting up early to get Hugo ready for school and to go to work. She and Hugo tumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Ginny was making breakfast.

"Hermione, what on Earth are you doing up so early?"

"Well Hugo needs to get to primary school and I need to go to work."

"Are you mad? I get that you are feeling bad, but Merlin girl, you are acting insane!"

"What is so insane about going to school and to work?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Your husband just bloody died!"

"Well thank you for reminding me so kindly!" Hermione shouted right back. Hugo's eyes were beginning to water slightly, but neither woman paid him any attention as they took their grief out on each other. Harry barged into the kitchen, carrying a sleepy Lily.

"What is the matter with you two?" Harry hissed, his eyes moving between Lily and Hugo. The two women caught on, and looked ashamed. That, however, did not quell Ginny's hideous temper at the moment.

"Hermione is going to drag poor little Hugo off to school and send her bloody arse to work-" Ginny began to explain, but was cut off by Harry's harsh admonishment.

"Language!" Harry gasped out, deciding to take the children outside of the room. He kneeled down, setting Lily on the floor and facing her eye to eye. "Lily, why don't you show Hugo some of your new toys you recently got for your birthday?"

"Ok," she said sleepily, stumbling a bit before she grabbed Hugo's hand. "Come on Hugo, there's this really cool mini wizarding chess game that Grandma just got me," she said as she led Hugo out of the kitchen and up into her room.

"Ok," Harry began, breathing deeply in attempt to calm himself. "Will someone please explain _calmly_ what happened?"

"I was just minding my own bloody business when I ran into Ginny this morning when I was getting Hugo ready for school. It's a Monday, for Merlin's sake! I have to go to work this morning as well, because again, it's a Monday! But for some reason, Ginny has a huge problem with this, and we got into a mighty row over it," Hermione explained, teeth clenched.

"I don't really see a problem with that," Harry replied, looking at Ginny.

"My brother just fucking died and she's just going to go back to work and send Hugo to school? Is that how little he means to you?" Ginny screamed.

"For Merlin's sake Ginny, calm down!" Harry exclaimed.

"Ginny, Hugo's young enough so that school will be a distraction. What, I let him sit at home all day or even worse, bring him over to Molly, where there's a constant reminder that Ron's not here? School is a perfectly good distraction for Hugo, and I can't stand him being so sad! As for me, work is a distraction! What are you suggesting, that I don't love him? I fucking married your brother, Ginevra Weasley! If that wasn't proof enough to you, then I don't know what is!" Hermione ended her tirade by slouching into a chair and sobbing her heart out.

"Hermione..." Ginny sighed, having lost all of her anger. She sat down next to Hermione, and began stroking Hermione's back. "I'm sorry, I just didn't think of it that way."

"That's the problem with you Weasley's," Hermione chuckled through her sobs. "You don't think at all."

"They don't," Harry agreed softly.

"Hermione, it's okay to take the day off you know," Harry said, sitting down across from both women. "If you really think it's a good distraction, then go ahead. But Molly owled us late last night that she was gathering everyone at the Burrow later tonight, and I think you want to be there for that."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm definitely going to work, especially now that we're not going to be having Ron's income anymore."  
"Hermione, money's not a problem at all. You've got countless in Gringotts as your war hero reward, and you know that the Auror Department will help you out, even if you were dependent on Ron's salary. Even without any of that, you'd still have your friends and family to help get you back on your feet!" Ginny reminded Hermione, who sighed.

"I know, I know, I'm just... oh nevermind. I'll be at the Burrow later Harry, but right now Hugo and I have to go. Thanks for letting us stay last night," Hermione walked out of the kitchen before either could say anything. Moments later, she and Hugo were gone.

Later that day, all of the Weasley's had gathered at the Burrow to comfort each other. As Hermione entered the Burrow with Hugo, she took a moment to observe the Weasleys that had gathered. Molly and Arthur were desperately holding onto each other, and Hermione felt a pang of anguish just seeing two parents lose another one of their children. Kaelyn and Charlie Weasley were no longer living in Romania since their daughter, Amy, had become old enough to attend Hogwarts. Bill and Fleur were cradling their youngest, Louis, and Fleur was whispering comforting words in that French lilt of hers. Audrey and Percy were speaking with Angelina and George quietly in one corner, and Harry, Ginny, and Lily walked over to join the conversation. Molly was the first to notice Ron's immediate family.

"Oh! Dear, dear Hermione!" she bawled, rushing forward to grip her and Hugo in a tight hug. "It's hard enough to lose your child... but your husband!" she wailed. Hermione hugged Molly right back, not caring for the wrinkles and tear stains that were bound to be strewn all over her suit and working clothes.

"Oh Molly, I do miss him terribly." Hermione's voice shook, her chocolate brown eyes beginning to water and overflow.

"Grandma, you're squishing me," Hugo rasped, inhaling deeply when Molly released him.

"Hey, little squirt. Come here," George said playfully, and Hugo bounded off to the prankster.

Without Hugo, Hermione lost the need to stay strong, and broke down completely in Molly's arms. Arthur came up behind them to comfort both mourning women, but his own silent tears were running down his face.

After a while, when everyone had calmed down, the rest of the Weasley clan wanted to hear the full story. Many tissues and sobs later, Hermione began their story, explaining Draco's significance in her life, much to the dismay of all of the Weasley men besides, surprisingly, Charlie and George, as well as the time turner accident with Marcus Flint that ultimately led to Ron's death. Hermione was sobbing at the end of her tale, as well as Harry and Ginny. Lily, Hugo, and Louis were upstairs with some distracting new gizmo that George had recently invented. The rest of the Weasleys were too preoccupied to guarantee that it wouldn't blow something up.

"Merlin Hermione, I just can't wrap my head around your friendship with Draco Malfoy. He was horrible to you for all of those years, and it almost seems as you just forgot about it entirely! Are you sure he didn't, oh I don't know, imperio Flint to attack you and Ron?" Arthur Weasley suggested, running his fingers through his gray hair.

"No!" Hermione immediately came to Draco's defense. "He would never! If he really wanted to attack me, he could have done it all of those years that I was with him in Australia!"

"But you vere also attackeed zhere een Australia, no?" Fleur pointed out. "Perhapz 'e did not vant to be direectly leenked to your death."

"No-" Hermione began shakily, but was cut off.

"They do have a point, Hermione," Audrey added. "Maybe he gave the Lestrange brothers your location in Australia, so that they could attack you without getting his hands dirty, and maybe, since it seems like he spent some quality time with Marcus Flint, he managed to either imperio Flint or even train him to attack you. If Ron hadn't pushed you out of the way..."

"But he fought the Lestrange brothers when they found us!" Hermione shouted desperately.

"If only to keep up appearances," Bill scoffed.

"Guys," Ginny piped up. "I can vouch for Hermione. He has really changed. There's a lot of good in him now that he didn't have before. I wouldn't jump to all of these assumptions and accusations. Remember, when you assume, you make an arse out of you and me."

Most of the Weasley's looked at her questioningly.

"Nevermind, it's a muggle saying," Ginny sighed defeatedly. "The point still stands. That Malfoy boy has changed, and I have faith in Hermione's judgment. Don't you?"

"I for one have learned that if we don't trust Hermione, we'll end up looking rather stupid later," Harry added.

"It's not that we don't trust Hermione, we just don't trust Malfoy," Angelina explained frustratingly.

"But by making the assumptions about Malfoy, you're ignoring Hermione and her judgment. Which is in and of itself not trusting Hermione," Charlie spoke up.

"Thank you for voicing my thoughts exactly, Charlie," Hermione said.

"Does it even matter?" Kaelyn asked from her corner of the room. "We aren't here to fight over Malfoy's goodness or badness, we need to begin planning funeral preparations for Ron."

Molly sobbed louder, and Arthur sighed. "My baby, my baby!" Mrs. Weasley blubbered.

"Molly dear, you know it is true. We do need to give Ron the respect he deserves. Hush Molly, it will all be okay," Arthur comforted.

"Thank you for keeping us on track, Kaelyn," Hermione stated a little sullenly.

Kaelyn nodded in response. "I try. It's not an easy time to live in right now."

"You could say that again," Hermione sighed dejectedly.

"Well, why don't we set a date for Ron's funeral?" Audrey suggested, being the ever practical wife of Percy.

"Hermione, did you have anything particular in mind?" Harry asked.

"Well, if it is at all possible, I would like it to happen this weekend."

"Sweet Circe, this weekend? Isn't that a little soon? That doesn't leave us much time to plan at all. What about invitations? Flowers? A proper venue even?" Kaelyn listed the various things that needed to be straightened out.

"I know it sounds very early, but I don't want Rose or Hugo lingering on this for too long. If I can give them closure sooner, the better it is for all of us. I would be so pleased that our children could move on, that they can go back to being children," Hermione spoke wistfully. "I can't stand seeing Hugo like this. It destroys me. And Rose was a mess."

"I think doing this next weekend is plausible. I don't think we have to send anyone any invitations that aren't very close to us. We can rely on Hermione with the coordination with the same place that Fred is at, right Hermione?" Charlie turned to her. She nodded.

"I'm slightly worried about how public it will be..." Hermione began, but trailed off, seeming to struggle a little with her words. "I know that since he's one of the major heroes of the Second Wizarding War, that a lot of people are going to want to pay their respects. Should we isolate the ceremony? I don't want to overlook anyone for invitations, though. Should we just leave it open to the public? I'd hate for any reporters or anyone to get in and bother us, though."

"I think that's a perfectly valid concern," sniffed Molly. "And it's also dangerous, for the rest of you. Who knows if some old Death Eater will come in when all of us have gathered? They could easily take a lot of us out, if we're not careful."

"Valid point, Molly," Arthur supported. "We should have it be closed again, like for Fred. The same security reasons apply, even if it is fifteen years later."

At that point in the conversation, Hugo and Lily tumbled down the stairs, screaming as Louis had turned into a giant, radioactive green monster, breaking up the seriousness in the room. As Hermione, Harry, and Ginny comforted their respective offspring, Fleur was screaming in George's face to change Louis back to his proper appearance. Hermione had a nasty headache already from relating her story to the Weasley family, and Fleur's yelling wasn't helping at all.

"Oh shut up already, Fleur! George has told you repeatedly that it won't wear off for another twenty-four hours!" Hermione snapped. Kaelyn shook her head.

"Hermione, why don't you go home and rest, you've had a long day," Kaelyn suggested over Fleur's indignant French.

"All right," Hermione conceded. "Goodnight everyone. Hugo, let's go home."

**AN: Sorry for not updating a long chapter. I have had pneumonia for the past week and had to be hospitalized. It was pretty terrible, but I'm back now and am writing furiously! I don't think I'll be making NaNoWriMo, unfortunately, because of it, but that's okay because I'm still writing this! More is coming soon, and please review! If you review, I might contact you for ideas or input on the next few chapters, so hopefully that would be incentive! Review guys!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_Ara and Scorpius looked at each other, completely bewildered..._

Ara and Scorpius spent the rest of Charms class worrying over Rose's sudden disappearance, Gavin Finnegan's odd behavior, and the stupid feathers flying all around the classroom. At the break, Ara and Scorpius headed towards the infamous classroom of Professor Natasha Pucey, for their next class, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Albus and Emelda joined the two Slytherins, and Harper Hopkins, one of Albus's fellow Hufflepuffs, asked politely if he could join. Of course, Ara welcomed him with open arms, while Scorpius eyed him suspiciously.

Professor Pucey swept into the room, wand out and cape billowing.

"Good morning, class. I apologize for my slight tardiness, as I was disciplining a couple of troublesome students. I trust that this class will be trouble free..." she paused, staring at each student in turn. Suddenly, without warning, she sent a nonverbal stinging hex towards Ara, who quickly blocked it with an instinctive Protego.

"Very good, Ms...?"

"Araluen Zabini, Professor."

"Well done, Ms. Zabini. Ten points to Slytherin. You have a quick reaction time," she praised, but in the middle of her sentence, she sent a stinging hex towards Horatio McLaggen, who did not dodge or block it, yelping as it hit him.

"However, Mr..." the Professor paused, waiting for the student to inform her of his name.

"Horatio McLaggen," the Hufflepuff grit out.

"Mr. McLaggen clearly needs some improvement on his reaction time and spell avoidance. Ten points from Hufflepuff. With that in mind, I'm going to randomly send a stinging hex your way throughout the lesson, and pay attention to both the lesson and be aware. This is often times the situation we are faced when protecting ourselves from the Dark Arts: you must focus on many things but be constantly aware."

"Constant vigilance," Albus whispered to Ara, who smirked.

"Did you have something to add, Mr. Potter?" the Professor rounded on him, and Albus Severus Potter cowered next to Emelda and Harper.

"N-n-no, Professor," Albus stuttered, frozen in his seat.

"Then expect a stinging hex soon, Mr. Potter, for interrupting my lesson. Another ten points from Hufflepuff," she smiled maliciously, and Albus gulped. The other Hufflepuff girls and boys in the class grumbled about the ridiculousness of the situation. The Professor turned around to move onto the lecture, and Scorpius hit Albus upside the head.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Albus whispered harshly, rubbing his head.

"You're supposed to say, 'I'm sorry, Professor. It won't happen again,' you Hufflepuff! Honestly, does anyone understand the art of charming a teacher besides us Slytherins?" Scorpius muttered.

"Mr. Malfoy, would you care to explain the importance of a shield charm?" Professor Pucey called on the fuming blonde.

"Of course, Professor. A shield charm allows the person who casted the charm to block most forms of spells, which proves as a useful defensive strategy," Scorpius said smoothly. "Often times, a shield charm is used with the spell, _Protego_."

"Very good. Another five points to Slytherin. It would have been ten, Mr. Malfoy, but you failed to pay attention earlier during the lecture."

"Ridiculous, I answered her bloody question perfectly and she still doesn't give me full points? Bah!" Scorpius cursed when the Professor's attention was elsewhere, criticizing some Ravenclaw's inability to block the hex.

"Oh shut up, already!" Harper said exasperatedly.

Before Scorpius could make a comment about Hufflepuffs and their stupidity, Emelda and Ara both kicked him underneath the table, and he resigned to grumbling under his breath.

Neither Slytherin saw Rose for the rest of the day, even during lunch and dinner. However, by the time they had trudged down to the Slytherin common room that night, they had both heard the rumors being spread about the obituary in the Daily Prophet. Both first years understood why Rose wanted to hide, especially with the gossip flying about. Many members of the other houses glared specifically at the Slytherins, as if it were Salazar Slytherin's fault that the great war hero had died.

Sighing heavily, Scorpius flopped down on the black leather couch next to the fireplace, dropping his book bag carelessly on the floor. Ara sat down next to him, and continued reading the Charms assignment in the textbook. Emelda flounced in, talking animatedly with Jayce, and the two joined Ara and Scorpius by sitting on the couch opposite to them.

"How has your day been?" Emelda asked cheerily. "Do you like your classes so far?"

"Charms was ridiculously easy, Defense Against the Dark Arts was slightly disturbing, and Potions was boring," Scorpius summarized.

"I am still mind blown by Professor Pucey's teaching techniques," Ara added, finishing the section and slamming the book shut with a flourish.

"Oh? And what are they?" Jayce asked curiously.

"Oh, you'll see soon enough," Emelda giggled.

"You had Transfiguration, right?" Ara directed her inquiry to Emelda.

"Mhm," she affirmed.

"How was McGonagall?"

"Strict as usual, and she assigned a twelve inch essay on the history of Transfiguration."

"Already? I guess that I'd better get started on it." Ara pulled out her parchment and textbook.

"Don't you have Charms, DADA, or Potions homework first?" Jayce asked.

"What do you think, mate? She finished all of it in class even when she participated," Scorpius rolled his eyes.

"To be fair, I only just finished the Charms reading," Ara pointed out.

"Still, you already finished Professor Pucey's sixteen inch essay? That's impressive," Jayce commented.

"How do you know what the assignment was anyways? I thought you didn't have DADA today?" Ara asked.

"Oh no, I didn't have it, I just heard from this kid," he motioned to Emelda, "when she was complaining about the assignment."

"Well it's super long!" Emelda huffed.

"So quit complaining already and just do it!" Scorpius huffed in the same manner, so that Jayce and Ara snickered.

"Well, well, well," Caymen said slowly, reminiscent of Professor Snape's slow and dry manner of speaking. "If it isn't my favorite set of Slytherin first years."

Lysander came up alongside Caymen, smiling a little. "I trust you've been doing well in Professor Pucey's class, Ara?" Lysander asked, winking.

"Excellently," Ara affirmed. "Thanks for all of the wonderful tips, both of you helped loads."

"Anytime, my young Padawan," Caymen grinned.

"And you didn't share with me, Ara? I'm wounded," Scorpius cried dramatically.

"There can only be one valedictorian," Ara laughed.

"Oh, so this is how it's gonna go? You didn't even bring up Head positions, where a boy and a girl could be honored? Fine then. Bring it on, Ara. First year is where it all begins, and it'll be going for the next six. Bring it," Scorpius challenged.

"You and Rose can compete for second place," Ara said with a straight face, and then burst out laughing two seconds later.

"You guys are ridiculous. There hasn't been a Slytherin valedictorian for decades. It's always some Ravenclaw," Emelda informed them.

"Besides, being a valedictorian automatically means you're _boring_. Even if you're Head Boy or Girl, that's already a boring title. And everyone hates those boring-ers," Caymen scoffed. "No, my young Padawans. You charm the Professors so they are extremely reluctant to punish you when you get into trouble."

"Notice how he said _when_, rather than _if_," Jayce snickered.

"Well I can't have my apprentices being a bunch of goody-two-shoes, can I?" Caymen snorted. "That's just preposterous."

"Obviously. After all, we just can't tolerate non-mischievous people. We don't mix," Lysander grinned.

"Clearly," Jayce snorted. "Have you guys seen Iridia or Gavin around?"

"That frigid bitch?" Emelda scoffed. "No, and thank Salazar for that."

"Don't be so harsh," Ara admonished her friend. "She might not be very nice, but maybe people haven't been nice to her."

"Don't tell me that we have to be nice to her even though she's a bitch. Are you sure you shouldn't be a Hufflepuff?" Emelda snorted.

"Sod off, Emelda," Scorpius growled.

"Ah, first year drama," Caymen tsked. "From what I've gathered, meaning observed or discovered in hearsay, Iridia is just a cold person, and nothing more. Gavin, however, appears to have some underlying threat in his personality."

"Say, Cave-man, I think we might have to befriend this threatening character," Lysander elbowed his friend.

"I agree. Well, off we are to go bother a certain Finnegan," Caymen smiled, leaving the collected first years to seek out the darker and perhaps more malicious Slytherin boy.

Unfortunately, on the other side of the castle, certain other Gryffindors were not enjoying their time, namely Amy Weasley and Elliot Applesmith, who were anxiously awaiting the arrival of their parents. Amy's parents stepped out of the floo first, stumbling into McGonagall's office with tear stains still on their cheeks from the Weasley Reunion. As soon as Kaelyn Weasley's eyes landed on her daughter, who was shamefully sitting with her head down, the screaming match began, much to the dismay of all those present in the room, including the portraits of Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore.

"AMY WEASLEY! WHY AM I IN THE HEADMISTRESS'S OFFICE ON THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL FOR INAPPROPRIATE PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION? WHEN YOUR UNCLE HAS JUST DIED! HAVE YOU NO RESPECT FOR YOUR FAMILY OR YOUR COUSINS? HAVE YOU EVEN SPOKEN TO ROSE TO SEE HOW SHE IS FEELING? WHILE YOU SNOG IN A BROOM CLOSET, THE REST OF YOUR FAMILY IS CRYING THEIR HEARTS OUT!" she screamed, while Charlie attempted to calm his wife down.

"Kaelyn, dearest," Charlie began, glaring at his daughter but putting a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Shut up! You're snogging in a broom closet when your cousins are sobbing with grief! If that isn't the most despicable, disrespectful, disgraceful act you could possibly commit, I don't know what is! You ridiculous child! I thought you would be old enough to understand that others have feelings that you should care about! AND YOU!" Kaelyn rounded on Elliot, who cowered under her furious glare.

"YOU DARE EAT MY DAUGHTER'S FACE OFF WHEN I STRICTLY PROHIBITED YOU FROM HAVING ANY FORM OF RELATIONSHIP WITH HER? YOU ARE NEVER, EVER ALLOWED NEAR MY DAUGHTER AGAIN. YOU'RE A TERRIBLE INFLUENCE ON HER ACADEMICALLY, SOCIALLY, AND EMOTIONALLY, SO IF YOU CARE ABOUT HER OR YOUR OWN PHYSICAL SAFETY, STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!" Kaelyn screamed at the boy, who continue to shrink into his chair.

"Mrs. Weasley," Professor McGonagall began to intervene. "I understand your... ire in regards to the situation and the seeming blatant disrespect these two have had. But, do believe me when I say that Professor Natasha Pucey has taken care of appropriate... disciplining procedures. I do wish to remind you that this is not a serious offense, but for prefects," McGonagall glared at Amy, who clenched her jaw, "this cannot be tolerated. I was at first willing to give Ms. Weasley here a second chance, but your mother has brought up a very valid point. As a prefect, Ms. Weasley, you are supposed to be a role model for the other students here at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, your behavior that shows so much disrespect for your family members and your uncle's death is the exact opposite. I am forced to revoke your prefect privileges and responsibilities, for the moment. You may earn them back, as it is yet early in the year, but I expect no less than perfect behavior from you, Ms. Weasley."

Amy nodded sullenly, understanding.

"Do you have anything else to say, Mrs. Weasley or Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall asked.

"No, I've said all I wanted to," Kaelyn spat.

Charlie turned to Elliot. "Mr. Applesmith, I apologize if my wife's reaction was a little intimidating, but we do want the best for our daughter and you are proving to be an unhealthy distraction. Please be careful. Amy, we're going now. We'll see you at the funeral," he said offhandedly, and Amy flinched.

The two Weasley parents departed through the floo, with Kaelyn blatantly forgetting to say 'goodbye' when she stepped into the fireplace.

"Ms. Weasley, you may go. Mr. Applesmith, please stay here until your parents arrive," McGonagall dismissed her.

Amy shot Elliot a sorrowful look before exiting the Headmistress's office, but decided that checking in with her cousins was long overdue.

She climbed the stairs up to the Gryffindor Tower, seeking her various cousins. She'd have to later check in with her Hufflepuff cousins Molly, Dominique, Albus, and Lucy, as well as her Ravenclaw cousin Roxanne, but Rose was her first priority, and she needed to check on Victoire and James, too.

As Amy entered the Gryffindor common room, she rammed into Teddy Lupin, who for all intents and purposes, was her cousin as well.

"Oof," he grunted as he stumbled backwards. "Watch it, would you-" he stopped, realizing who it was. "Oh, it's you."

"Hey, Teddy. Sorry about that. Um, how is it going?" Amy asked nervously. She had never had a good relationship with Teddy.

"Since when did you care?" he asked viciously "So, did that dumb git finally stop sucking your face off long enough for you to give a damn about your family? Or did he break up with you so he could suck the face off of another airhead?" Teddy bit out, and then angrily pushed her to the side. "It's real fucking nice to know you care about your family!" Teddy shouted as he descended through the portrait hole.

Amy stood shocked still for a few minutes, involuntarily crying at Teddy's harsh words. The rest of the Gryffindors gave her space, torn between feeling pity for the red-headed girl and silently agreeing with Teddy's assessment. Shaking away her few tears, Amy glanced around the common room, looking for Rose. When Amy eyed Rose's roommates, she strode over to the two girls.

"Hi, do you know where Rose is right now?" Amy tentatively asked, unsure what their reaction would be.

"Well, we haven't seen her since breakfast this morning, but she would probably be in the library," Clara replied simply. Amy let out a breath of relief; she couldn't handle much more anger directed at her and was grateful for the simple answer.

"How about James or Victoire, if you know them?"

"No clue," Amelia replied this time.

"All right, thanks." Amy turned away and headed off towards the library.

Amy entered the library quietly, and glanced around the room. She spotted Rose in the far corner, buried into a book. Amy chuckled to herself. Typical Rose, she thought.

Rose didn't bother to look up as Amy pulled out a chair next to her. After a few minutes of being ignored and after around two page flips, Amy cleared her throat.

"What?" Rose asked without removing herself from her books. "James, I told you that I forgive you already, and that I don't want to talk about it. Why don't you just leave me alone?"

"Rose, it's me," Amy said quietly.

Rose finally tore herself away from her book. "Amy?" she asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

"Just checking in with you. You were here for me when I was feeling down. Can't I do the same for you?"

"What is there to talk about? He's gone, and it's tough, knowing he isn't coming back. What more can you say? We'll miss him, all of us, and me especially. But it won't change anything."

Amy was rather taken aback by the maturity Rose was exhibiting. "Well, it helped me get rid of any survivor's guilt I was feeling when I talked to you, so... Well, I don't know. If you ever feel like you need to rant or get rid of any illogical feelings, you know where to find me, okay?"

"I'll let you know if I ever feel that way," Rose said with a tone of finality.

"Promise?"

"Promise," she affirmed flatly.

Amy sighed and stood up, knowing she would not get any farther with Rose. She threw one more glance towards Rose, and then strode out of the library, intent on finding James. Amy accio'd the Marauder's Map from whichever Potter or Weasley had it at the moment, and searched the grounds for James Sirius Potter. Her eyes landed on the two feet alongside Alden Wood, headed straight towards the library, so she waited at the entrance, tucking the map back into her robe pocket.

"James!" she called as the two second-year boys rounded the corner.

James was momentarily taken aback. "Amy?" he asked hesitantly.

She bustled her way towards her cousin. "I'm so sorry James, I've been so insensitive. Are you holding up all right? With Uncle Ron's passing?"

"Shouldn't you be checking on Rose?" James asked numbly.

"I just did. She doesn't really feel that there's much to discuss."

"Well, then that settles it. We'll see ye at the funeral, if you care t' stop snogging fer a mo," Alden snapped viciously, settling deeper into his Scottish accent in his agitation. "See ye aroond, Weasley." With that, Alden tugged James past the shocked sixth year and stalked into the library.

"Oh, Uncle Ron, I'm so sorry. What have I done?" she sobbed.

The Weasley,s Potters, Longbottoms, Scamanders, Malfoys, Zabinis, and a few other families gathered together at the same burial area where they had stood together for Fred's death. Kingsley Shacklebolt himself presided over the funeral proceedings. Rose and Hugo clutched their mother's hands, tears running down both of their freckled complexions. Teddy, James, and Albus stood together, watching mournfully as another part of the Weasley family was broken away forever.

Amy, the eldest of the next Weasley generation, decided that she needed to say something. She needed closure, or else she'd feel guilty about her behavior forever.

So when the minister asked if anyone would like to share a memory, she tentatively raised her hand.

"Yes, Amy? Would you like to share something?" Kingsley asked kindly.

She nodded and stood up wobbly, shaking as she came to stand at the podium. She pulled out the scrap of paper that had been cried over for the past few days, crumpled and smoothed far too many times. Taking an uncertain breath, she began, staring out at the sea of black in front of her.

"Uncle Ron was one of many uncles in my family. But he was unique, in his own way. No, it wasn't because he was a war hero or the best friend of the Chosen One, but in the fact that he was completely ordinary and understood how it felt to be that: just average. He understood how it felt to be just... normal in a sea full of talented and brilliant people. He was a great wizard to me, not because he helped to defeat Voldemort, but because he helped me defeat my own insecurities. It's okay to just want to watch a Chudley Cannons game, or simply eat. It's the simple things that make life worth it, and Uncle Ron taught me the importance of it.

So, I'm sorry that I wasn't the most sensitive person during the beginning of this time of grief. I didn't even realize how disrespectful I was being. But I know for a fact that Uncle Ron wants us to move on and enjoy the simple life. Rest in peace, Uncle Ron," Amy concluded, stepping down from the podium with tears in her eyes.

She made eye contact with Rose, and she saw a softening exterior. She smiled grimly: all was forgiven.

**AN: Before you get the pitchforks out and destroy me, I have an excuse! My parents blocked fanfiction because I was spending too much time on it, so I now have to post chapters up in the library. If you want to get chapters ahead of library-posting time, let me know if you're willing to go onto Figment or Wattpad to get the same story. How do you let me know? BY REVIEWING. SO PLEASE REVIEW, since it makes me happy and motivates me to update more. Thoughts on Amy? This was a pretty Amy-focused chapter. How about Professor Pucey? REVIEW.**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The day of the funeral...

Hermione stared at the silvery surface of the mirror, hardly believing what she saw. There, a mourning widow clothed in the darkest of black gloomily met her gaze, preparing to say a final goodbye to her other half.

Except, Hermione thought guiltily, he never really filled the gaping hole in my heart that only one man could.

She sat down heavily on the floor in front of the mirror, taking deep breaths. Closing her eyes, she could still see Ron's smile, his laugh. All of the good times that she had with Ron, Harry, Ginny, and her children, Hermione remembered. Sneaking out of the common room their first year, to hunting horcruxes, to playing with their children, all of those beautiful times wouldn't happen again. There was a time when they lived in a world where they had each other, and that was enough. Best friends against the world, and they survived. She caressed her simple necklace, a last gift from her husband. It was over wasn't it? At least her time with Ron.

She remembered their first kiss, and the elation the memory brought. Finally, she remembered thinking. It felt so right.

"Expecto Patronum," she whispered, seeking her playful otter to bring her comfort.

But the silvery light was not as strong as it used to be, and it didn't even take corporeal form. She had always had problems with this particular charm, but the feeble light depressed her further.

She focused on the first time Rose could speak, and how elated both Ron and she were. She tried again, whispering the incantation a little more forcefully. The Patronus was even feebler, this time.

And so Hermione remembered what she dared not. She remembered the memories that she had locked away forever, and thought of him.

His kiss. His smile. His laugh. His anger. His beauty.

"Expecto Patronum," she tried again, putting more emphasis into her incantation. Her patronus began to form, and she smiled slightly, anticipating her playful, adorable-

-swan?

She froze, staring as the regal swan floating back and forth in front of her, eying her with a combination of innocence and disdain, if such a thing were possible.

"But, that's not possible. My patronus is an otter. His patronus is a-"

"Hermione?" Ginny called from the fireplace downstairs. "Are you ready?"

With the distraction, Hermione's swan vanished, so she trudged down the steps where Ginny was waiting. Still shaken by her discovery of the patronus, Hermione shuddered a little, and Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione, misunderstanding the thought behind the shiver.

"It'll be all right," Ginny cooed.

"I... I know," Hermione muttered. She pulled back from Ginny, and grabbed onto Ginny's arm, apparating to the all-too familiar burial ground. Here lay Fred, Remus, Tonks, Lavender, too many to count. Too many deaths of too many heroes and ordinary people. And now, Ron would lie next to them.

Everything was a blur, to Hermione. She only really registered the tight grips of her children's hands, but every murmur of sympathy or comforting touch was quickly forgotten. Hermione had prepared her speech, and read if off tearfully as she said her final goodbyes to her husband. George shared the various pranks he and Fred had pulled on Ron, and Ginny recounted Ron's interrogation of Dean Thomas when she was dating. Hermione wistfully said a few parting words as they lowered his coffin into the ground.

"I wish I had more time with you. I wish you could have seen our Rose and Hugo grow, and find their own loves. I wish you could have walked Rose down the aisle, or interrogated her first boyfriend. I wish you could have taught Hugo to play Quidditch or brought him to another Chudley Cannons game. Alas, none of this is to be.

You were my friend in the worst times of my life and a wonderful husband during the best. Ron, my dear, I will miss you forever," Hermione finished, wiping her tears away. Ron was finally laid to rest alongside Fred, and Rose collapsed into her mother as the first shovelful of dirt was thrown onto her father. Hugo was muttering nonsensical words, and all Hermione could do was clutch her two children to her chest, falling to her knees. None of the others dared to disturb the heartwrenchingly broken family. The whole Weasley clan huddled together, some of their spouses feeling slightly out of place and miserable.

Draco stood between Blaise and Alex, staring stiffly at Ronald Weasley's final journey. He couldn't really name what emotion was running through him. It was too complicated. On one hand, Draco could feel a twinge of sorrow, but it was more for the pain Ron's death created for Hermione and the rest of the Weasley family. On the other hand, he almost felt slightly relieved. Ever since he could remember, he had been jealous of the damned Weasel, when it should have been the other way around. The Weasel had a true, loving family, honest and amazing friends, and most of all, Hermione. He even held Astoria's love, for Salazar's sake! As far as Draco was concerned, the Weasel didn't deserve much of it. He destroyed Hermione's heart time after time again, left the Wonder Duo on their hunt for horcruxes, and was often an unforgiving git - not that Draco could say he himself was any better, but Hermione deserved someone better. Longbottom should have had the lif Weasley led, Draco decided. Longbottom wouldn't have botched up things when it really mattered.

Ronald Weasley had a pretty damned blessed life, and only messed the most important things up. Draco frowned.

Blaise and Alex both noticed, and elbowed him together.

"What?" Draco hissed.

"We know what you're thinking, mate. Get over it. Ron messed up a few times, but don't we all? He was unforgiving, but he's dead. Have some respect," Blaise muttered.

"I'm burying my ugly thoughts about the Weas-Weasley with him," Draco retorted in a hushed whisper.

"Then be done. It's over," Alex said, softly motioning to the mound of freshly turned dirt.

"I'm finished," Draco nodded.

The three turned their attention back to Hermione and the other Weasleys. They were all tearfully hugging each other, reminding themselves that they were not alone in the grief they face. The children began to say their goodbyes, McGonagall insisting that they get back to Hogwarts as soon as possible.

Ara and Scorp walked over to their parents.

"I'm surprised you came," Draco said to his son, ruffling his hair.

"We thought we ought to support Rose," Ara explained, giving Blaise and Alex a big hug.

"I'm glad you're thinking of her," Alex said proudly to the two eleven-year olds. "Take care of Rose, okay? Watch out for her, and owl us or Hermione if anything seems off. Let a Professor know, too," Alex began rambling, before Blaise put his hand on her shoulder.

"Aunt Alex, we know. We'll take good care of her," Scorpius said solemnly.

"Good, we're counting on you two," Blaise looked affectionately at his godson.

"Off with you, McGonagall calls," Draco ushered them off fondly.

"Love you, Dad," Scorpius grabbed his father's hand. Draco squeezed it back.

"Love you too, son."

Alex kissed both children, and Blaise tackled both of them in a hug before handing them off to McGonagall and a few other professors that had come to escort the children and pay their respects.

Harry and Hermione embraced, both inwardly cringing that they would never feel the third embrace ever again.

"You okay?" harry murmured into her ear, rubbing her back. He pulled back slightly to look at her - the best friend that had stuck with him through thick and thin. He searched her unnaturally pale face, worriedly scrunching his eyebrows at the lifeless brown eyes that stared emptily back.

"It should have been me," she whispered brokenly, ignoring Harry's protests. "Shush Harry, you know it. Ron sacrificed himself for me. Maybe if I had just-"

"Just what?" Harry interrupted, slightly angry. "If you had died, Ron would be beating himself up over your death and his failure to act quickly enough. Stop it, Hermione. You've been down this path before - we all have, being survivors of this war. We all know it leads nowhere good. Snap out of it! Please," Harry begged, seeing that he wasn't getting through to her. "Damn it, Hermione, don't do this again!"

Ginny rushed over, hearing Harry's anguished cries. "Harry?" she called, wiping any leftover tears from her face.

"Gin, she's doing it again. We're losing her again!" he cried.

"NO! No, no, no, 'Mione! Hermione listen, to me. You can't do this. You can't just check out of reality because it hurts too much. Hermione, focus, remember your parents. You have children, for Merlin's sake!" Ginny attempted, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Hermione was lost in her own world, shutting off all contact with the outside world.

"He would have been alive. The Weasleys would be better, had I gone. They may mourn, but not like they do for Ron. He could have found someone better to love," Hermione said in a trance-like monotony.

"That's not true!" Ginny protested.

"No!" Harry sobbed, falling to his knees. Ginny knelt next to him, burying her face into his shoulder. "I've already lost one of my best friends! I can't lose another," he sobbed.

"Oh gods," Kaelyn muttered as she spotted the three. "I hope she didn't..."

"Didn't what?" Charlie asked facing the direction his wife was looking. "Oh no..." he murmured.

Suddenly, the rest of the Weasley family turned to take in the horrid sight before them: Hermione's relapse into her insanity and depression. George buried his face in his hands, Angelina beginning to sob anew. Audrey and Percy were roughly shoved aside as Alex, Blaise, and Draco ran past them to Hermione.

"No, Mione, you are not pulling this shit again!" Alex shouted angrily, gripping Hermione's shoulders and shaking her. "I won't allow it! We are going to get you back, 'Mione. I know you're still partly here, so listen carefully. You are not worthless. You have done so much good for the world. And that's why we're going to get you back, you hear? Whatever it takes, we will get to you, and you will not stop us from doing so. We love you, Hermione, so very, very much! Stay strong until we find you, okay? We're going to get you out of this, because we love you," Alex sobbed, searching Hermione's eyes for any hint of emotion.

"Bad wolf," Blaise muttere into Alex's ear, gripping her shaking shoulders.

Alex inhaled quickly, smiling slightly through the tears running down her face.

"Bad wolf," she said to Hermione, whose brown eyes flickered with recognition.

"Shadow claw," Blaise said to the broken woman.

"Black swan," Draco added.

Hermione's eyes began to twinkle, widening a bit in understanding.

"Sun star," Hermione whispered, with a faint smile, and then disapparated away.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" Harry demanded. "How did you do that? Where did she go?" he continued to bombard the three with question after question.

"Relax Harry," Ginny calmed him down. "Let them answer."

"It's a promise," Draco stated, a muscle working in his jaw. "It promises that we will find each other and find the light, despite the darkness that envelops us. Each of those things mean something to us."  
"For example, BAD wolf is the first letters from each of our names, Blaise, Alex, and Draco. My patronus is a wolf," Alex explained.

"Shadow refers to a nightmare I always face, and claw comes from my patronus, a panther," Blaise put in.

"And I'm a dark, wealthy, vain snob," Draco summed up. "A black swan."

"As for where she went, I don't know. Likely, some place that holds good memories," Alex speculated hopefully.

Harry nodded stiffly, still worried.

"Alex, our appointment with the Aurors is in a few minutes. We should get going," Blaise said, glancing worriedly at his watch.

"Aurors?" asked Harry, on alert with the distraction. "Which ones?"  
"Not part of your team, Harry. The ones dealing with the Flint case," Alex explained.

"Why do you have an appointment with them?" Ginny asked curiously, slowly getting up and pulling Harry up with her. They brushed each other off, dropping pieces of dirt and grass on the lawn they had fallen on.

"We're trying to break the curse on Astoria, but we need to understand what Flint was thinking about when he cursed Astoria. Hopefully it will give us an idea of how to proceed," Draco explained.

"Well, good luck," Ginny replied. Draco aloofly nodded his thanks and held out his hand for Alex and Blaise. The tree apparated away, leaving Harry and Ginny to explain to the rest of the Weasleys what had just happened.

Molly Weasley was the first to demand answers. "Well? Where is Hermione? How is she? She didn't relapse, did she?" Molly cried anxiously, hands on her hips.

"Mum-" Ginny began, but was interrupted by Harry.

"Where's Hugo? Hermione left, but did she get Hugo?" Harry asked confusedly, glancing towards Fleur, who was looking after the children.

"She apparateed back 'ere to take 'ugo off ov my 'ands," Fleur answered.

"Oh, okay," Harry breathed, relieved. Ginny gripped his hand.

"Well?" Molly said impatiently, worry lines creasing her face.

"She did relapse, and neither of us could get through to her. But then Alex, Zabini, and Malfoy came-" Harry was interrupted.

"That boy better not have touched a hair on her head!" Arthur Weasley roared.

"Dad, he didn't hurt her!" Ginny quickly intervened before he began a very Ron-like rampage. Her father immediately relaxed, but not completely.

"Anyways, those three managed to snap her back, at least partly. They had these code names that all were supposed to have some personal meaning," Harry continued.

"When you put all of the codes together, to them its a promise of hope," added Ginny.

"There's something about those three..." Bill murmured thoughtfully.

Molly sighed. "It's because they remind you of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, isn't it?"

Arthur and Bill sputtered a bit. "How could you compare those- those- those Slytherins to them?" Arthur asked his wife incredulously.

"Well, Alex is like Hermione, always keeping the boys in check. Draco's got a lot on his shoulders right now, much like Harry always did, and Blaise is an amazingly faithful friend, like Ron," Charlie pointed out.

"Actually, there's quite a bit of parallels. Alex married Blaise, like Hermione married Ron. Those three are constantly together, not unlike our own Golden Trio. They've been through life-threatening situations together, as have this lot. Alex and Blaise had a daughter and then a son, just like Hermione and Ron-"

"But they're not the same! They're completely different people!" Percy cut in.

"Are they that different though?" George challenged. "And Charlie, since when have you begun calling the Malfoy ferret-face by his first name?"

All eyes turned to Charlie. "Since he earned my respect. If you had seen him and his kid..." Charlie shrugged. "You have to be a decent person to be a mediocre parent, but Draco is doing a pretty damn-"

"Language!" Molly scolded.

"Sorry, Mum. He's doing a fine job as a parent, thus far. At least, for a Malfoy," Charlie added.

"That doesn't really say much," Bill snorted.

"I'm sick of talking about the ferret-face," Ginny groaned. "Let's move on."

Alex, Blaise, and Draco said their farewells to Hermione and the Weasleys, and apparated to the Ministry of Magic, stumbling as they arrived. Blaise groaned.

**"Draco, your apparation technique is horrendous. It's really deteriorated terribly," he complained, clutching his head.**

"That's it. We're practicing tonight," Alex snapped, bent over with nausea.

"I'm sorry, I was just distracted," Draco rolled his eyes. "Though I could use some practice."

Blaise helped Alex straighten up, and pulled the two in the direction of the lifts. "To the Auror department!" Blaise declared cheerfully.

"I hate these elevators," Alex grumbled as they stepped inside.

"Lifts," Draco corrected with a smirk.

"I'm an American and proud of it!" she snapped back, knowing that she had just given him the exact reaction he was looking for.

"America!" Blaise teased her in a Southern accent. Alex punched him playfully.

"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement," a voice announced as they arrived. They exited the lifts, or elevators, and turned through a few halls, passing the offices to their place of appointment, noting the sunny magical windows along the way.

"Who is it that we're meeting with?" Draco asked as they entered the room labelled 'DE42 - Conference Room.'

"I believe Terry Boot," Blaise informed Draco. "Brilliant Ravenclaw, next to Anthony Goldstein."

"Dennis?" Alex exclaimed incredulously as they found the mousy-brown haired man at one of the tables. He was in the middle of a conversation with said Auror: Terry Boot.

"Alex? What are you doing here? Blaise, Malfoy," he acknowledged.

"We have an appointment with Boot here," Draco explained.

"I'm just finishing up here," Dennis responded. "I think Megan mentioned the attacks in France?"

Alex nodded. "Too coincidental, don't you think?"

Terry Boot, the black-haired man next to Dennis, bobbed his head up and down in agreement.

"No Death Eater activity for close to ten years, and suddenly we have some serious cases on our hands. I'm heading the investigation for Flint as well as France with Goldstein. That's why Dennis is here."

"Gotcha," Alex nodded in understanding.

"I've got a meeting with Kingsley in a few minutes, so I'd better be off." Dennis states, standing up and shaking Terry's hand. "Pleasure working with you."

"As always," Terry smiled.

"I'm off. My condolences to your loss, and best hopes for your wife's health, Malfoy."

"Thank you," Draco smiled stiffly.

"Oh, and by the way, Megan and I are expecting," Dennis added.

"My goodness! Congratulations!" Alex squealed.

"Pretend to be surprised when Megan tells you later, all right?" Dennis grinned, and exited the room after Alex's eager promise.

"All right, then. Down to business," Terry clapped his hands together, motioning for the others to take a seat.

"So, you want to interrogate Marcus Flint?" Terry began, suspiciously eying Draco. The blond noticed, and glared back at his former classmate.

"Less interrogate, more... It's not for investigative purposes, that's your job as Aurors and I have complete confidence that you've done a very thorough job in the investigation thus far," Alex assured Terry, whose slight frown had loosened into a thin line. "But in regards to Astoria's health, we're hoping that a few questions might elucidate Astoria's condition. If we can get an idea of what Flint was thinking when he created the curse, we may be able to break the magic that holds her."

Terry leaned back into his chair, assessing Alex's genuity.

"Well?" Draco asked impatiently, after a moment's pause. Blaise and Alex both kicked him under the table.

"Forgive him, he's anxious about his wife's condition," Blaise tried to delicately salvage the situation from Draco's rudeness.

"I can understand," Terry said finally. "I'll let you ask him, but there will be a lot of rules. First off, Malfoy stays here."

"Look here Boot!-" Draco snarled, getting up only to be pushed back down by Blaise and Alex.

"It's nothing against you personally," Terry sighed, rubbing his temples. "It's just that there are a lot of prejudiced people in the auror department, and they don't trust you, Malfoy. I'm sorry, but I can't risk any complications with prejudice. Normally, I'd fight for you, but with the Death Eater activity in France, tensions are running high and are easily snapped. Blaise, I don't know if I can allow you either. It's easier to just let Alex in, and I'm sure you trust her to get your questions answered?"

"Of course we trust Alex, but-!" Draco and Blaise exclaimed simultaneously, but Terry cut them off.

"So that's settled then. I presume, Alex, you wish Veritaserum to be administered?"

She nodded.

"Very well. You will have ten minutes with him, I can't give you anymore time."

"Can we see the transcript of the questioning?" Blaise asked.

"Yes, actually, that you can. We got the idea from muggle instant messaging systems..." here Terry paused, throwing a side-long glance at Draco, who met the gaze indifferently. "Anyways," Terry continued, "we've magicked the paper to automatically copy down everything in the room, and you two can see exactly was is going on by watching the speech flow on. If you ever have any questions or suggestions for Alex in the midst of the questioning, I'd just use the charmed rings you three have."

Instantly, all three had their wands out, pointing at Terry, who seemed rather unaffected.

Alex realized a second later exactly how bad this scene would look if someone walked in, so she lowered her wand.

"Lower your wands! Imagine if someone walked in right now!" Alex hissed at Draco and Blaise, who begrudgingly put their wands away. They didn't, however, stop glaring at the Auror.

"Explain how you know that," Draco growled.

"You all wear two rings. One of them on each of you is exactly the same, while the rest are, I presume, wedding bands. I run in the same social circles as Hermione does, and she has the same one as you. I had asked her before about it, and she explained the similarity to the Dumbledore's Army galleons," Terry said nonchalantly. "Are we quite done here? Time's a tickin'..."

"Let's go," Alex said curtly, pocketing her wand and leading Terry out of the room.

"Here's the transcripts." Terry handed two blank sheets of parchment to Draco and Blaise. "Don't move while I'm gone, all right? Not a muscle. Don't even blink. Blink, and you're dead, you hear me?" Terry Boot warned.

"We hear you," Blaise replied neutrally, grasping Draco's arm to restrain the blonde from doing anything stupid. "But you better bring Alex back just how she is, or I won't care that I'm in the middle of Auror Headquarters," Blaise added.

Terry nodded. "Alex, this way please." Terry directed her down the hall into a darker section of Level 2. They stopped at room DEI17, entering after several layers of security had been disabled - and reenabled, of course, after they had stepped inside the room.

Alex surveyed the small interrogation room, automatically classifying the table and chairs' lethal potential, the strength of the glass, and the complexity of the wards that contained Marcus Flint. He was situated in a room separated from them, the only connection being the glass window in the wall. There was only one way to escape, and that was the door from which they had come. If an emergency really occurred, she could probably break through the anti-apparition wards fairly quickly, but would be energy-consuming and potentially dangerous: she hadn't really practiced for years. Plus, Flint could get away before she could replace the anti-apparition wards. She became aware that Terry was evaluating her, just like she was the room.

"Yes?" she asked, not looking at him, still taking in the details of the room: a cracked brick here, a splintered table corner there.

"You've completely evaluated this room and possible escape routes within the first fifteen seconds of entering. How did you become so acutely observant? he asked curiously.

"There's a class at the university I attended. It taught us how to survive. I'm a bit rusty, but there have been times where that class has saved my or someone else's life," she replied tersely, fully in her sensing-danger mode. "May I begin questioning him?"

"The veritaserum has been administered. Your time begins now," Terry informed her.

Alex approached the glass, which was likely a mirror on the other side, not unlike muggle police interrogation rooms.

"Who are you?"

"Marcus Flint, husband to Pansy Flint nee Parkinson and father to Fiona and Felix Flint," the dejected man said tonelessly, his back to the mirror as he sat hunched over on his white prison bed.

"Who am I?"

"I don't fucking know, all right?" he snarled.

"Just testing you. How old is- are your children?" Alex asked, curiously. For all she knew, Felix Flint didn't exist.

"Fiona is twelve years old while Felix has yet to be born."

"When will he be born, then?" Alex asked confusedly, knowing that Felix Flint definitely did not exist yet.

"In eight months," Flint replied monotonously.

"What were you thinking about during your ambush at King's Cross?" Alex tried, figuring it might be worth a shot to be straightforward.

"Obviously I wasn't," Flint growled, sounding more sane than he had in years.

"What emotions do you associate with Hermione Granger?" Alex tried a new line of questioning.

"Hatred, betrayal, disgust, hopelessness," Flint listed.

"Why do you feel these particular emotions?"  
Because she's a mudblood who holds far more power than she realizes, and fails to save my innocent children because of her ineptitude!" he spat. Before Alex could continue, he spoke again.

"She's the fucking key to unlocking it, don't you guys understand? EVERYTHING. She is so, so powerful. All the good and evil in the world, she can unleash it! The fate of the universe lies in her hands. I saw it. I saw the time vortex and the paths we can take. I know the Goddess of Choice. If the mudblood dies now, the potential for destruction would be nil. Don't you see? You fucking idiots. Can't you see the swirling doom that she brings?" he began ranting crazily. "Black, red, yellow, burning, fire, always, death, floods, plagues, fire, red, yellow, all of it! All of it! ALL OF IT! Everything, everywhere, always!" he doubled over on his bed, and began pounding his fist on his head and his other hand on the wall.

"I see the bronze and gold and silver and black that can continue to shine their light after the mudblood is gone. But the mudblood's life risks everything! She will kill if all goes wrong. He will kill if all goes wrong. And with their best friends' light destroyed, the protectors of light will become distributors of dark. They will be the Ferocious Four, spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning in so much black, black, black, black. The universe will die, and all is lost to the dark. Dark, dark, dark, dark, dark." he repeated over and over again like a mantra.

She had goosebumps on her arms, since she felt a personal significance of those rantings. Who were Hermione's best friends? Alex, Draco, Blaise, Harry, and Ginny. Of them, three will join Hermione in a dark campaign if all went wrong. But what would have to go wrong? Hermione shouldn't have to die!

Her ring warmed, and Alex focused on the message. "Astoria" is all she saw.

"What did you want when you accidentally hit Astoria?" Alex asked in a sweeter, softer, voice.

"For the mudblood to feel the pain. The never ending, never stopping pain that envelops you and crushes you, always, always, always spreading," he sneered. "For her to pay for the d-d-d-d-dark that she can bring. She brings. She brings. She brings," he chanted.

"Mudblood!" he cursed. "Mudblood! Pay for your future deeds. You're the fucking key!" he called out to the ceiling. "You're the fucking key! Die and never unleash the dark! Live and the dark can come. It approaches."

"Time's up," Terry said quietly, looking just as disturbed as Alex was. She nodded, beginning to step away from the glass.

"It's your future, too," Flint hissed. Alex whirled around to face the man. His eyes were glazed over, a hollow shell of what they used to be. "I can sense you. You follow the light. You have dabbled in the dark before, as has everyone who attended your school. It has made you powerful, oh, so, so, so very powerful." He tilted his head. "It's a slippery slope to the dark side, no matter how well you have withstood it before. It's your future, too. Will you eliminate the problem before it presents itself? Or will you fail to restrain the monster and let it consume you? It's your future, too!" He sang in a jeering taunt.

His voice followed her out of the room. "It's your future, too!" he sang.

Alex was thankful for the time limit, and quickly returned to the conference room. "Terry, are we allowed to hold onto one of these transcripts?"

"I would say no, but then you'd just use a pensieve to recreate it. I'll take one though, for our records."

"Thanks Terry," Alex said gratefully.

Draco looked meaningfully at BLaise, who then cleared his throat. "One last thing, is it possible for us to get a transcript of the interrogation of Flint that you're Aurors have had thus far?" Blaise asked cautiously.  
"Why?" Terry stiffened.

Alex decided to try. "Just to see if there's anything else relevant to Astoria's case of course. Anything you skilled Aurors may have uncovered could be extremely valuable - I'm of course, not nearly as qualified in interrogation techniques as i am sure your Aurus are. I may have missed something that could prove to be crucial to Astoria's survival."

"Alex," Terry tsked. "I know what you're doing. You're a very persuasive speaker."

Draco inhaled roughly.

"But I have to say, it worked. As long as that's your only reason..."

"I assure you, that is my only motivation. If you want, you could put a protective spell on it if it's really that classified," Alex suggested.

"I'll do that," Terry smiled genuinely at her. "I'll be right back, give me a moment.

As Terry left the room, Draco exhaled loudly.

"Wow. Flint is nuts. But he's making too much sense..." Draco began. Blaise and Alex nodded their heads vigorously.

"Not right now, we can discuss this later," Alex mouthed, looking around the room for emphasis.

"But whatever, because that person is such a stuck up git!" Draco muttered, changing the subject.

"Ha, I'm unfortunately stuck in the room with him," Blaise commented snidely, earning himself a punch. "What is, it beat up Blaise day?"

"Yes," both Alex and Draco stated straight-faced.

"Humph," Blaise stuck his tongue out maturely.

"I've got them," Terry announced, reentering the room. "They're protected so that only you three and Hermione can see it. You can't reproduce these transcripts, since the content will automatically erase itself."

"Got it. Thank you so much for your time, Terry," Alex shook his hand.

"No problem. Anything for you - and Astoria's health," he added, almost as an afterthought. Blaise thought it necessary to intervene.

"Listen, Terry, I really appreciate what you've done for us. I know we weren't friends or enemies in school, but what do you say to starting over?" Blaise held out his hand, and Terry grasped it firmly.

"Pleasure was mine," Terry smiled. "Malfoy," he nodded towards Draco, who was staring rather frostily at the Ravenclaw.

"Boot," Draco returned. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Terry responded, and the three left the level, full of more questions than they had begun with. They made their way back to the Atrium, flooing to their company's headquarters.

"Remind me again why we're at work on a Saturday?" Draco groaned.

"Because I wanted to look up some literature on pain curses and anything else relevant to Astoria, your wife, may I remind you," Alex said tiredly. The three emerged in the main lobby, passing various laboratories as they made their way to the library.

"Accio items on pain curses," Alex shouted as they entered the large room. A good twenty books flew from various corners of the library and into Alex's arms, who placed them on one of the long wooden tables.

"Accio items on magical comas," Blaise called, adding another ten books and nineteen articles onto the stack.

"Accio items on magic afflicting the nervous system," Draco added, calling another seventeen.

The three sat down and began reading, searching for anything relevant to Astoria's case. A few hours later, they had narrowed the pile down to about five books and ten studies published in various review articles.

"Ugh," Draco groaned, clutching his head. "All of these articles on the Cruciatus curse are giving me a mental crucio."

"I feel you, mate," Blaise sighed, slamming one of the heaviest textbooks on the table loudly.

"Blaise! That is mahogany!" Alex scolded. Draco rolled his eyes at her.

"We are magical folk, remember Alex," Blaise teased.

"All right, what did you find?" she asked them.

"That magically induced comas are typically when the magic blocks or causes the body to block the electrical signals of the nervous system. It's almost as if it is shielded, rather than the magic keeping the nerves from sending signals," Blaise informed them.

"Does it make a force field of a sort?" asked Alex.

"Or does the magical energy disrupt the electrical signals?" asked Draco.

"Depends on the curse," Blaise shrugged. "The wand movement, if smoother or more circular, creates the shield-type blockage. Jagged or sharper movements create disruption," Blaise answered.

"Anything else?" Draco asked.

"That's about it."

"Wait, how do you stop a magically induced coma once it's in place?" Alex held up her hand.

"Well... you don't. It's really tough. Theoretically, you would destroy the force field, or you would try to prevent the electrical signal disruption by either absorbing the magical energy or deflecting it elsewhere, but there aren't many studies on that."

"Seriously? No one has thought of this yet? Or published anything on this?" Draco asked incredulously. "That doesn't sound right. Maybe we're just lacking the relevant articles in our particular library."

Alex gave him a look. "You're insulting a library that Alex Wong and Hermione Granger built and compiled? Really?"

"Quit while you're ahead," Blaise muttered. "Anyways, what about you, Draco?"

"It's all pretty obvious. Magic intended to cause pain attacks the nervous system by augmenting hormonal signaling, or neurotransmitters, and the electrical signals themselves. The energy of the magic tends to go a little bit faster on the electrical side, since magic is energy and excites the electrons and whatnot. It tends to help add to the activation energy for the enzymes and hormones, though, so it affects both," Draco outlined.

"Makes sense," said Alex. "I found that pain curses typically aren't very stable and create a lot of side effects. Like the Cruciatus curse - it makes some people go insane, like the Longbottoms, because of the overload of electrical signals and neurotransmitters, as you were saying, Draco. it's because of the intense emotions behind pain curses: it causes the magical energy to go haywire since it isn't a concentrated, controlled emotion. That creates loads of problems. The only way that really works to counteract those curses is to redirect the magical energy into a more ordered, calmed direction. Some people tried to just shield the nerves from the energy or prevent the nerve receptors from working, but the energy just bounced off and destroyed something else," Alex finished.

Blaise looked thoughtful. "So, the ideal solution would be to engineer a spell that uses the chaotic energy, rather than the witch or wizard's energy, to do good?"

"My thoughts exactly. Also, perhaps we can repurpose the energy to repair the damage the curse inflicted," Alex thought aloud.

"The incantation for that would be really complicated," Draco mused. "Maybe something about absorbing and repairing, similar to Reparo."

"Hmm... we should look up the Latin word for absorb and maybe heal," Alex suggested. "Redirect? There's a lot of choices, and it will be hard to test all of them out in a short amount of time. Developing a healing spell is the worst! We'll have to go through animal trials, then human trials, then get the Magical Health Association's approval and St Mungo's approval before we can use it on Astoria. That's years in development, not just a few days!" Alex exclaimed worriedly.

"Love, relax! Write it down, but let's go home. I'm starving," Blaise ordered.

"All right!" Alex conceded, breathing deeply in and out.

"You'd die if Blaise weren't here to tell you otherwise," Draco laughed.

They had just exited the library when Alex stopped in her tracks.

"What now?" Draco asked exasperatedly. "I want my food, woman."

She glared at him. "To feel the pain. The never ending never stopping pain that envelops you and crushes you, always, always, always spreading. Spreading. Why didn't I think of that before!" Alex shouted, throwing her hands up in the air and running back into the library.

"That's what Flint was saying?" Draco asked Blaise. Blaise nodded, but looked at Draco like he was the dumbest person he had ever met.

"I know you're a dumb blonde, but go any slower and you'll be heading backwards," Blaise scoffed. "Spreading, mate." Draco made a face. "No, get your mind out of the gutter and it is not the debate team's form of speaking. It's a magical cancer."

"Oh, fuck," Draco swore, realization hitting him. "Magical pain metastasis. Especially high incidence in those tortured with the Cruciatus curse. Why didn't I think of that? Damn it, it had to be cancer."

The two men rushed after Alex with renewed vigor, their dinner completely forgotten. They understood now that time was of the essence.

**AN: Yes, I just went there. I just biologified magic. Science and magic can coexist. Take THAT. So, if you're not a bio person, and/or you don't understand neurotransmitters, enzymes, hormones, metastasis, etcetera etcetera etcetera, it's not that crucial to the story. Basically, the pain curse that is afflicting Astoria is a toughie, and it's lethal. The clock is ticking, so these three are gonna be working their butts off to fix Astoria. Will she survive? Well, that's to be seen. Other than the completely biologified last bit, how did you like the chapter? Review! Review! Review! Questions about the biology? Ask it in a review, I'll be happy to answer how it all works in my complicated mind. Flint crazy enough for you? REVIEW. To the one view in Kyrgyzstan, you're awesome! Please keep reading! To everyone else, you guys are amazing, too! I'll be giving shout outs to people in the most obscure countries, because, well, they're pretty darn awesome.**

Anyone catch the Hunger Games reference? Doctor Who reference?


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_All was forgiven..._

Upon their arrival to Hogwarts, the children solemnly hugged each other and parted ways. The Weasleys and Potters were all either in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, so Ara and Scorpius were about to separate from the crowd to head in the opposite direction. However, Scorpius grabbed Rose, Albus, and Ara by their robes, pulling them in another direction entirely.

"Argh!" Rose grunted, trying hard to break free of the blonde's grip. "Let - Go - Of - Me!" she struggled, pulling at her robes.

"Where are you taking us?" Ara asked tiredly.

"The library. I am _not_ going to my mother's funeral this early on her life, if I can help it. We're doing research on this. There's got to be a way to fix her," Scorpius said determinedly. At the words 'library' and 'research,' Rose stopped her attempts to escape, but Albus began wriggling.

"I'm too bloody tired to do any research. For Helga's sake, it's a _Saturday_. I'm not going anywhere near the library!" Albus declared.

Scorpius, by this time, had let go of both Ara and Rose in order to restrain Albus. "You're coming with us, Potter," Scorpius fired back. Albus kept attempting to escape, but the boys were evenly matched, falling to the ground without either really succeeding. Eventually, the two boys became so tired in their tussle that they both sat down on the floor with exhaustion.

"I'm still... not going... there," Albus panted in between deep breaths. Rose rolled her eyes.

"Wingardium Leviosa," she chanted, and Albus began to float in the direction of the library.

"Hey! That's cheating," he gasped out, flailing his arms and legs in midair.

"Stuff it or I'll drop you," Rose threatened.

"Come on, Scorp," Ara pulled the blonde up to his feet. They followed after Albus and Rose, one of which was groaning all the way to the library. At the entrance, Rose unceremoniously ended the spell, landing Albus on his butt.

"Ouch!" he cried indignantly.

"Aww, did I bruise your wittle bum? Need me to kiss it?" Rose asked mock sweetly.

"I think you've been a bad influence on her," Albus said pointedly at the two Slytherins.

"Sweet Circe, have you never heard of something called 'the comeback'?" Scorpius groaned.

"What?" Albus asked confusedly.

"Morgana-forsaken Hufflepuffs!" Scorpius whisper-shouted after receiving a glare from Madame Pince.

"An appropriate rebuttal to Rose's insult could have been, for example, 'yes, Rose, please do kiss my butt," Ara explained. "That would be a comeback."

Albus blinked. "Oh, is that all?" Albus asked innocently.

"Oh, I give up!" Scorpius shook his head and threw his hands up in the air, turning to go deeper into the library.

"So, what exactly are we looking for?" Rose asked Scorpius cheerfully.

"Holy Helga, give her a book and she'll forget all about her father's death?" Albus shook his head at his cousin.

Ara shrugged. "Books provide a beautiful alternative reality. It's a fantastic distraction."

"You two," Scorpius called. "Get over here you lumps!"

"Be quiet," Madame Pince hissed from her desk.

"We're looking things up about fixing magical comas," Rose gushed excitedly.

"Why don't two of us take potions, and two of us take spells?" Ara suggested.

"I'm not-" Albus began to protest, but Rose did her best impression of Ginny Weasley, hands on hips.

"Albus Severus Potter, so help me Godric, if you complain one more time about being in a _library_ or _researching_," she paused for emphasis, inwardly grinning at every cringe Albus made at those two words.

"Are you going to finish that statement Weaselette? Or I'll just start _researching _in the _library_ without you," Scorpius goaded.

"Oh no you didn't!" Rose raged.

"Yes he did, and it's because he can. I'm taking spells, you guys duel it out or whatever. Ara is out. Peace," she drawled, bored. She turned away and began walking to the right, glancing over the different aisles of books. Scorpius glanced once at Rose's furious expression and ran after Ara.

"Coward!" Rose hissed.

"It's called a Slytherin's sense of self-preservation," he whisper-yelled back, ducking into the aisle that Ara had disappeared into.

"Come on Albus, let's go research potions!" Rose enthusiastically dragged him from his spot, Albus grumbling the entire way.

In the aisle the two Slytherins had disappeared into, they grinned and slapped a high-five.

"This was a brilliant idea, Ara. She doesn't suspect a thing, it got her out of any depression, and this might really save my mum!" Scorpius grinned at his childhood co-conspirator.

"Beautifully executed, getting her all riled up at you. That really snapped her out of it," Ara smiled.

"Now, down to business," Scorpius said, scanning the titles on the left shelf.

"Scorpius Cepheus Malfoy is focusing? Somebody called Guinness!" Ara mocked sarcastically.

He chuckled a bit. "So funny," he stated, with a slight sarcastic edge.

"Who are you and what have you done with Scorpius Malfoy?" Ara gasped as the blonde continued to scan the bookshelf. Scorpius ignored her, grunting as he began to pull a thick encyclopedia from the shelf above his head. Seeing that he was about to drop the volume, Ara waved her wand with a simple "Wingardium Leviosa," levitating it just before the book landed on his toes. Scorpius yelped as it slid from his grasp, breathing a sigh of relief that his foot had been spared.

"Thanks Ara, though you're a tad bit Hufflepuffish today," he teased.

In an attempt to hurt his foot, Ara ended the spell, hoping the fat book would destroy his toes, but Scorpius had already taken hold of it. He lugged it over to an empty table, placing it with a loud thump onto the wood.

"What is that, anyways?" Ara asked, sitting next to Scorpius and setting the book between them.

"A catalog of all the spells that have been created or used," Scorpius explained. "It automatically shows the spell name, incantation, creators, purpose, and most famous uses."

"Perfect," Ara brushed off the dusty leather cover and opened the book to the first page. "To sort the spells, choose one of the following categories from the list and tap the text with your wand once. The most relevant spells will be in the beginning of this book, while the least will be at the end. To specify your search, tap the chosen category twice and say the keyword(s) relevant to your area of interest," Ara read aloud.

Scorpius pulled out his wand. He tapped "Healing and Medical Spells" twice, declaring "coma." When he turned the page, there were about fifty results on the first page, with text at the bottom asking if they needed to alter their search or use a more advanced search.

"It's like a magical Google!" Ara exclaimed excitedly. "To view the results, just tap your wand to the line with the spell."

Scorpius tapped the first one, _Resipisco_, created by Professor Norris Brigateer in 1471.

_This spell was created in 1471 by Professor Norris Brigateer, in hopes to awaken his father from a coma induced by a concussion. Unfortunately, Brigateer's attempt, although successfully awakening his father from a coma, did not allow his father to fall asleep when necessary. Brigateer's father died shortly thereafter, due to a lack of sleep. Since then, healers have not trifled with the spell again. In 1645, Healer Cuthbert Scobahull attempted to find a counterspell in hopes to restore the sleep necessary for various coma patients, but was unsuccessful. The mechanisms of the _Resipisco _spell have not been studied, seeing that the spell is fairly useless to the Healing field._

Ara groaned. "That's the top result? Obviously, there's no clear cut answer."

"You're not allowed to be discouraged. That's my job," Scorpius snapped. "Plus, it's only the first one."

"Oh look who's the optimist now?" Ara retorted.

"Are you taking a journey down Scorpius's Sarcasm Street?"

"I live there," Ara rolled her eyes.

Scorpius simply flipped the page, and began reading the entry on _Expergedueram_.

_In 1292, Henecoc Walbrook experimented with the Latin wording of _Expergefactam _in awakening his wife from a deep slumber, known in the fairy tale of _Sleeping Beauty. _The best incantation resulted in _Expergedueram, _but it only lasted for brief periods of time. Walbrook's wife would awaken for a few hours, but the potency of the spell wore off quickly. Further research on the spell has not discovered the biological effects of the spell, though some Spell Composition Specialists (SPS), namely Richard Panshawe, speculate that the wording of the spell required too much energy to continue its effects. Panshawe consistently advocated its use for awakening patients in long term comas, but animal trials have proven that the spell requires an excessive amount of energy that the mice used in experimentation did not possess. After these studies, the _Expergedueram _spell became obsolete._

"Well, that wasn't super helpful..." Scorpius trailed off.

Rose and Albus joined Scorpius and Ara at the table, levitating several large tomes. Rose sat down eagerly, while Albus slumped down miserably in a chair, rubbing his ear sorrowfully.

"I pity your future children," he grunted.

Rose ignored him. "So, did you find anything?" Rose asked Ara and Scorpius excitedly.

"Yeah, have you ever heard of Google?" Ara asked Rose and Albus.

"Of course! I don't live under a rock," Rose exclaimed.

"Well, my dad's mentioned it once or twice, but I never understood it," Albus grumbled.

"Well, Rose, this book is like a Google for spells. Albus, it's basically a compilation of different spells that you can search to find the most relevant ones," Ara explained.

"That's actually brilliant!" Albus perked up a bit. "That would make... researching..." he shuddered, "so much easier!"

"It's wonderfully efficient, but it kind of takes the joy out of it," Rose sighed. Albus rolled his eyes.

"You and your mum are so alike it's beyond scary sometimes."

"Granger's child. What did you expect?" snorted Scorpius.

Rose ignored the comment, too excited about her research. "So, I was looking through mentally associated potions, and these are the ones I've found so far," she declared cheerfully, sliding a piece of parchment covered in scribbles towards the Slytherins. Ara looked it over appraisingly.

_Baruffio's Brain Elixir_

_Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction_

_Memory Potion and its variations_

_Anti-Paralysis Potion_

_Mandrake Restorative Draught_

Perhaps similar effects on comas? (in Rose's messy cursive)

_Magi-Me-More Pills_

_Revive Potion_

_Scintillation Solution_

_Wit-Sharpening Potion_

"Not a bad beginning list," Ara smiled, flattening out the wrinkled paper. "It certainly holds promising ideas, though, I don't think the memory potion or magi-me-more pills will be very useful," she noted.

"I was wondering about those as well. Although the wit-sharpening potions aren't really what we're looking for, I thought that an energy or brain power boost could be helpful," Rose replied, scratching out the two potions Ara had vetoes.

"Hmm... Well, it depends, I guess, on the cause of her coma. If her brain shuts parts off, then those potions could be very useful, in stimulating them or something..." Ara pondered.

"Exactly what I was thinking," Rose confirmed.

"Does it bother you, Malfoy, that these two speak like they're actually sixth years rather than firsts?" Albus inquired incredulously.

"Not so much. They're just like their mothers," Scorpius replied, and made to snatch the list from Ara, who anticipated the move and held it out of his reach.

"Ara!" Scorpius whined.

"Scorp!" she mimicked, throwing him a death glare. "You know to say 'please' and 'thank you,' so use those words!"

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease may I have the list?" Scorpius asked, annoyed and extending the 'e' sound.

"Yes, you may," Ara replied, handing it back to him and smiling sweetly.

Scorpius's eyes perused the paper, while Albus's eyes drooped. Looking up from the paper, he set his eyes on the ginger in front of him with a newfound respect.

"Well done, Weasley. I appreciate it."

"It was my pleasure," she responded lightly, meeting his gaze intently.

"Spells are looking pretty dismal," Ara reported, breaking Rose and Scorpius's staring contest. "We hadn't gotten through many before you guys came, but the few we did were pretty specific to fixing comas, but they didn't work out well.

"That's disappointing," Rose said sadly.

"Hardly," Scorpius scoffed.

"Maybe you need to look at less specific spells, or spells that fix the cause of the coma rather than the coma itself. Maybe the spells won't work well on comas because there can be multiple causes or things to fix, and the magic can't fix everything, especially since it's not being focused on anything," Albus suggested tiredly, yawning widely.

"What?" he asked as the other three stared at him.

"That's brilliant," Ara breathed.

"There's the creativity and intelligence you've been lacking thus far!" Rose cheered. "I knew you had it in you."

"Sweet Salazar, the Hufflepuff is smart and the Gryffindork insulted her cousin! DId I step into a parallel reality?" Scorpius asked disbelieving.

"It's not like I'm stupid," Albus protested.

"They just can't handle your brilliance," Ara patted his hand.

"Why don't you have your pity party with the other Hufflepuffs?" Scorpius snarked. "I don't understand how you could be a Slytherin," he looked pointedly at Ara. In no time flat, she had her wand out and hexed his mouth shut.

"That's why. I can be ruthless _and_ sweet. It depends on if my the object deserves affection or... disciplining," Ara smirked, putting her wand away and choosing that word specifically. Scorpius's eyes widened. SHe had just called him childish, and he had no way to defend his honor. Tugging at his sealed mouth, he settled for a glare.

"Lysander and Caymen have been too influential," Scorpius commented once she lifted the charm. Ara smirked.

After compiling a list of potentially helpful spells and potions, the four first-years stumbled towards the owlery in a mind-numbed post-intensive researching state. Ara, Scorpius, and Rose each sent a copy to their parents, but Albus knowingly opted out of sending the Potters a copy, predicting that Harry and Ginny would merely forward it to Draco or Hermione. On their way back to dinner, Rose thought she saw a suspicious shadow move towards the four, and whipped out her wand.

"Rose?" Albus asked. Ara and Scorpius turned to face the direction Rose's wand was pointed towards, but found nothing there.

"Oh, I thought... I thought I saw something." She shrugged, pocketing her wand.

Ara saw Caymen slinking around the corner in her peripheral vision, but he was soon gone. She shook her head in amusement.

"Probably just Caymen," Ara smiled, walking in the direction of the Great Hall.

"Who?" Rose and Albus asked simultaneously.

"Lorcan and Lysander's best mate. I think your puny Gryffinpuff brains can draw a reasonable conclusion from that," Scorpius snarked.

"Hey!" Albus cried indignantly. Rose, on the other hand, had learned to ignore the constant stream of insults issuing forth from Scorpius's mouth.

"Careful there, insult us too many times, and we'll be forced to think that you have self-esteem issues," Rose drawled. Okay, so, she didn't really ignore him.

"Don't flatter yourself," Scorpius shot back. "I'm doing you both a favor and reminding you of where you stand on the intellectual level."

Ara rolled her eyes, lightly punching the blonde. "You know that Rose is ten times brighter than you are."

"Booksmart? I'll concede. Cunning? Hah, I'd like to see her try," Scorpius snorted.

"Oh quit bickering. You two sound like an old married couple. You and Rose too, Malfoy," Albus groaned.

That comment shut up the threequickly. The rest of the walk back to the Great Hall was virtually silent: Ara was too tired to bother keeping the conversation going, and Scorpius and Rose glared at each other.

"For the record, if I were married to you, I'd poison your tea," Rose said offhandedly when they entered the Great Hall and split up into their tables.

"If I were married to you, I'd drink it," Scorpius called over his shoulder as he walked over to the Slytherins with Ara.

Headmistress McGonagall watched the four, amused. She leaned towards Neville, the Herbology Professor and Gryffindor Head of House. "Neville, I do believe a bet is in order."

Neville was by now used to Minerva's eccentricities. It almost seemed as if Minerva had felt duty-bound to inherit Dumbledore's idiosyncratic spontaneity. The Potions Professor and soon-to-be Head of Ravenclaw (when Flitwick would retire), Professor Michelle Huang was still easily shocked by Minerva's audacity.

"A bet on _what_?" she asked the Headmistress, smiling slightly in her disbelief.

"Couples, by the end of seventh year. Beyond Hogwarts, if it comes to that," Neville explained. As Professor Pucey (Head of Slytherin) leaned in with interest, Michelle smiled at her fellow faculty members.

"Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy, any day and every day," Michelle stated confidently. "I'd wager twenty galleons on that, if we're going to last for seven years."

"Oh honey, we go beyond Hogwarts," Natasha reminded her.

"I bet on Rose Weasley and Alden Wood," Neville said confidently. "The sorting hat's been 99.99% right. I'd mark the wager up to forty galleons."

"Oh ho ho! Someone's confident," Michelle teased.

"You bet," he grinned.

"So punny," Natasha rolled her eyes. "My money's on Ara and Scorp. They have the whole childhood sweetheart thing going for them. Same as Neville in galleons."

"Albus Potter and Emelda Nott. Guaranteed," Minerva smiled. "Seventy-five galleons.

"No," Michelle protested. "That's not happening. I doubt they even know the other exists!"

"Oh, you'll see," Minerva laughed.

"I'm surprised Rose is so happy. She was bawling during the funeral. A few hours, poof! She's better than at the beginning of last week," Neville commented.

"Those three are good for her. They really snapped her out of any funk she might get into," Michelle agreed.

"They're so like their parents," Natasha smiled.

"It bothers me that Ara is in _your _house," Michelle complained. "I was talking to Rowena the other day, and she and I feel skimped that Hermione Granger, Rose Weasley, _and_ Araluen Zabini aren't Ravenclaws. Especially Araluen. I look at those four like the founders of Hogwarts. One for each house, but just kidding! Ara's a Slytherin! No Ravenclaw representation whatsoever!"

"Actually, I asked the Sorting Hat about this once I had her in Herbology. Bright kids, all of them, but Ara's just above and beyond. He was seriously considering Ravenclaw, but she could really fit any of the houses. She really wanted to be with Scorpius, though, since they're joined at the hip. So, she chose Slytherin. The hat's reconciled with Rowena, though, by suggesting Rowena take a personal interest in Ara's intellectual development," Neville informed the other professors.

"Do you have nothing better to do than talk to a hat and talk to a portrait?" Natasha asked Neville and Michelle incredulously. "If you have so much time, would you mind grading my first years'-"

Neville glared at her. "Natasha," he interrupted. "You'll find that the Sorting Hat's incredibly wise and interesting to talk to!" Michelle nodded.

"Same with Rowena," Michelle added.

Minerva tapped her fingers to her chin contemplatively. "Neville, the next time you speak with the Sorting Hat, it would be wonderful if you include me in the conversation."

"Great. Everyone will be taking to a hat in a few days. I'll begin checking us into St. Mungo's ahead of time," Natasha drawled.

"How are you parents faring?" Minerva asked Neville quietly.

"Loads better, thanks to Alex. They've gotten most of their memory and function back. I think St. Mungo's will discharge them to Hannah and me in a month or so," he said cheerfully. "You've no idea how much better it is to hold a conversation with them, and have them remember who I am."

"That's wonderful to hear," Michelle grinned.

"How's the issue with Astoria faring?" Neville asked Natasha.

"Tough. Though Hermione drafted a perfect contract, Mungo's being a right stick up the ass about having an outside specialist come in," she answered.

"Language, please," Michelle teased, nudging Natasha.

"Anyways," Natasha continued, ignoring Michelle's prod. "Hopefully, I'll get approval by next week. Healer Davies is rushing it as quickly as she can, and I had to submit loads of background check paperwork. It was terrible."

"Well good luck with all that," Minerva smiled.

"Now, who's writing these bets down? We've got to keep track of them!" Natasha declared.

**AN: Yay! New chapter! DON'T KILL ME I'M SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG. I had to write this one from scratch, and junior year has sunk its claws into me, so I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a few weeks. This was actually done a week ago, but I had hand written it and needed to type it up. Also, while this chapter is slightly shorter, I think the Harry Potter Generation chapters will typically be longer, since, well, I'm not nearly as focused on the going ons in Hogwarts. We have Astoria to heal! Shout out to you Saudi Arabian, Latvian, and Trinidad and Tobago views! **


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

_Time was of the essence..._

"Where are we, Mummy?" Hugo asked innocently, clutching tightly to Hermione's hand. He wobbled slightly, nauseous from the side-along apparition.

"We're at Grandpa and Grandma's, Hugo," she said weakly, looking down at her son.

"Is Rosie going to be there?" Hugo asked, while raising his arms up to indicate his desire to be held.

"No, darling. She's gone to Hogwarts, remember?" Hermione reminded him, bending over to pick him up.

"But Rosie came back..." Hugo pointed out astutely.

"Yes, she did. But, she won't come back until Christmas holidays, love. We'll see her soon," Hermione responded, walking out of a secluded corner of the playground, just down the street from her parents' home.

"Can we play on the playground?" Hugo implored his mother.

"Let's go see your grandparents first," Hermione answered as they walked a block or so, turning into one of the houses and through the garden. She rang the doorbell.

"If you're another one of those- oh!" Patricia Joan Granger stopped short in surprise. "Hermione, love! And Hugo! What a handsome young man already! Come in dear, I didn't realize you were coming, or I would have baked cookies-"

"COOKIES?" Hugo asked eagerly.

"Hugo," Hermione admonished. "That is no way to greet your grandmother. What do you say?"

"Hi Grandma," he said shyly, ducking his face into his mother's curls.

"Aww, what a dear. Come in, come in!" Pat ushered them into the house. Hermione set Hugo down, who kicked off his shoes and darted into the living room in search of his grandfather.

"Matthew Allen Granger, get down here this instant! We have visitors," Pat called up the stairs.

"Grandpa!" Hugo said excitedly, running out of living room and skipping up the stairs.

"Heyyy! Hugo the Hero!" Hermione's father greeted grandly, snatching the four year old up in a bear hug. He looked over Hugo's shoulder to Hermione from his crouched position. "Hello darling! I'm glad you two decided to drop by, there's this really cool toy I came across that I thought Hugo would like."

"Toy for Hugo?" he looked at his grandfather excitedly. He glanced at his mother quickly, and then gave his grandfather an earnest look. "Thank you, Grandfather for thinking about me. I'm sure I'll enjoy it," Hugo said seriously, and swiveled to look at Hermione, who was holding back laughter and gave a nod of approval.

"Can we go play with it?" he reverted to his exuberant self.

"Of course, Hugo! Come with me and we'll get it right now." Matt replied cheerfully, beginning to go back up the stairs. "I expect a full report of your life when we get back down, Missy!" he grinned at his daughter, brown eyes sparkling. Hermione mock saluted him. "Yes, sir," she answered.

"Come, Hermione," Pat directed them towards the kitchen. "I know something's up, so let's bake some cookies while you vent."

"You know me too well," Hermione chuckled .

"I'm your mother. I'd always remember..." she trailed off, exposing the tension left behind by Hermione's _Obliviate _spell. This was the one thing that Alex couldn't fix.

Hermione internally winced, and put her hand on her mother's shoulder. Pat covered Hermione's hand with one of her own, sighing. "It's not that we don't understand why you did it, and we appreciate the thought for our safety. It's just hard to get over the fact that we weren't there for you, and that you did it without consulting us first."

"I know, Mum. And I'm sorry,"

Pat turned around and hugged her. "It's been years, so there's nothing to worry about. All is forgiven."

"Thanks, Mum."

"Now," Pat exclaimed, returning to the task at the hand, pulling out eggs, flour, and other items. "Tell me, what's on your mind."

"Ron died about a week ago," Hermione blurted out bluntly, not sure how to sugar coat it.

Pat dropped the measuring cup she was holding in shock.

"Oh my goodness! How?" Pat gasped.

"He was murdered by a mentally ill man," Hermione said sadly.

"That is despicable, letting mentally ill wizards and witches have a deadly weapon on their person at all times," Pat shook her head in disappointment. "We recently tightened upon gun control here in muggle UK, and there have been barely three police gun fatalities in the last eleven years. They need restrictions on those wands you carry," Pat determinedly pointed at Hermione's pockets.

"He actually had his wand taken away, but he managed to break into the safe in which it was held," Hermione explained, leaving out the fact that Flint had been aiming for her in this insanity.

"Oh love..." Pat shook her bushy curls. "When is the funeral?"

"It was earlier today... I didn't ask you both to come because, as a war hero, he's being buried in a strictly magical place, and I know Dad wouldn't care for him much."

"That's incredibly early for a funeral. And while I understand your reasoning, we would have come if we could. Your father is not heartless, and we would've supported you regardless. Hermione dear, independence is a good thing, don't shun us or make decisions for us before asking us. Please, Hermione, could you tell us first in the future?"

"Yes, I am so sorry, Mum. I've gotten so used to having my magical life separate from my muggle life that I never give it much thought when they should overlap..." Hermione said ashamedly.

"Well, the past is the past," Pat said seriously.

"I have a favor to ask you," Hermione began, cracking a few eggs into a bowl.

"What is it, dear?"

"I... I need to get away. I almost relapsed into my depression earlier today, but thankfully, the usual three snapped me out of it before it went too far."

Pat immediately understood her daughter. Despite the two years she missed from her daughter's life, Pat knew exactly what Hermione needed.

"Thank goodness for Alex, Blaise, and Draco," Pat sighed. "Of course, dear, we'll take care of Hugo. How long do you think you need?"

"Just a couple of days," Hermione said, much less nervous now that her mother understood. "I... I think I will go somewhere out of the country maybe to California for two or so days. Please if any of my friends owl me, let them know I'm safe and taking a break."

"That's settled, then. Will you stay for dinner?" Pat asked, already knowing her daughter would decline.

Hermione fidgeted slightly, and put down the eggs she was beating. "I'm sorry, Mum, but I need out."

"I understand love. Go and give your father and Hugo a proper goodbye, before you leave," her mother ordered.

" I will, "Hermione smiled, washing her hands quickly and lumbering up the stairs. She followed the sound of laughter into her parents' bedroom, where Hugo was excitedly smashing two Hot Wheels Cars together.

Hermione leaned against the doorway of the bedroom, taking in the sight of her father chuckling merrily and Hugo ecstatically squealing. When Matt finally looked up, he was sporting a wide grin.

" And there's my darling daughter! Come in! Come in, my love! The cookies aren't ready yet, are they?" Mat questioned.

" Cookies? " Hugo burst out eagerly. "I love cookies very much," he said seriously.

"I bet you do," Hermione laughed. "No, they're not ready yet. Mummy just wanted to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?"Matt asked, his face dropping into a frown.

"Yes, Hugo, you will be staying with Grandpa Matt and Grandma Pat, just for a few days, okay? "

"Yes Mummy! Look, I got some cars! " Hugo proudly displayed his toys.

"Yes, they're very cool, aren't they? Did you say thank you to Grandpa yet?"

"Yes, I did Mummy,"

"Good boy. Why don't you show Grandma Pat your cars?" Matt suggested.

"Okay!" Hugo cheered, rushing out of the room with the cars clutched in his hands. "Bye Mummy!"

"Bye Hugo, love," Hermione called.

"Now, you just got here. Why are you leaving all of a sudden?" Matt asked seriously, pulling himself up from a kneeling position.

"Ron passed away last week," she sighed.

"And it wasn't fit to give us a call at the minimum?" Matt raised an eyebrow. Hermione immediately thought of Draco, but shook her head to clear such thoughts out of her head.

"I'm sorry, Dad. Mum asked as well... And I've been a bit preoccupied... the funeral was today." Hermione winced, aware of the disappointment radiating from her father.

"Hermione, dear," Matt sat heavily on the bed. "I'm sure you have your reasons, and you forgot with everything on your mind. But we don't like being oblivious of the events in your life. It's been tough, rebuilding the trust between us. But we care, and even though I wasn't a big fan of Mr. Weasley, he's your husband! I would have liked to support you."

"I know, Dad, and you're absolutely right. It's just... I almost relapsed. The three got me out of it, though."  
Matt nodded. "I don't care about what you Gryffindorks say..." Hermione chuckled at Malfoy's obvious influence on her father. "Those Slytherins were good, genuine people. Harry and Mr. Weasley were, too, but they didn't understand you as well as those three did."

Hermione smiled grimly. "It's true. So, I'm getting out of here for a few days, and I was hoping you could take care of Hugo."

"Of course, just come back safely. And when you do, I expect major updates!" Matt commanded. Hermione mock saluted him.

"And just a suggestion, but you could always go muggle if the wizarding world's a bit crazy for you," Matt smiled. "Embrace the anonymity."

"I probably will. There's this quaint little muggle town Alex has told me about. I just might check it out."

Matt hugged his daughter. Where had the years gone? It seemed like they had just received her Hogwarts letter yesterday.

"Be safe dearie."

"I will. Bye Dad."

"Goodbye." He smiled at her and walked her out the front door, after a hug from Hugo and Pat. She didn't see the worry lines that creased his face as soon as the door shut.

"California, I'm coming back!" she grinned, excited for the beautiful weather. Although she wasn't really supposed to apparate internationally, Alex, Blaise, and Draco had taught her how to, and she'd be let off easily if she ever got into trouble. With her war heroine status and Kingsley behind her, she would probably slide out of any sticky situations.

"Plus, I'm a lawyer," she rationalized, chuckling a bit. "I can talk my way out of anything."

She pictured the Atlantic Ocean, draining and shrinking until it was about the size of a pond. With a vibrant picture of San Francisco and the Golden Gate bridge in mind, she apparated across the Pond, though it took a little longer than normal apparition.

She stumbled and fell, landing on her bum following the loud crack of her magical transportation. She swore, her bum hurting only added to the presence of the heightened apparition nausea.

"Are you okay?" a voice asked her. She looked up, and her breath caught in her throat. Damn, these Californian boys... in a tight biker's outfit too.

"Uhm..." she said intelligently. "I kind of landed on my arse and have a bit of nausea, but I'm okay for the most part."

He helped her up. "I hope there's no wounded pride either," he chuckled.

"Oh it's nothing compared to my biggest blunders," she smiled. As she let her eyes survey the surrounding 'scenery,' she berated herself for allowing herself to be attracted. Her husband had just died, for Merlin's sake!

"Sorry, hon, but I'm from the Castro District," he grinned. She blushed, embarrassed that she was caught ogling.

"Well... whatever guy that catches your eye will be a lucky man indeed," she stumbled a bit over her words, feeling like an awkward sixteen year old again.

"Why thank you, and the same goes for you."

"By any chance... no one else saw my... embarrassing fall, did they?"

"Naw. Your 'fall' went _magically_ unnoticed," he grinned again. "We muggles are fairly familiar with weird occurrences, so just go merrily along your own way, and none will be the wiser."

"Thanks...?"

"Kurt."

"-Kurt. Thanks!"

"Any time chica, and your name?"

"...Patricia," she choked out, using her mother's name as a back up.

"See you around, 'Trish." He mounted his bike and rode away.

She looked around the bridge, cars honking furiously in the early morning traffic. Ahh, she had forgotten. San Francisco was eight hours behind London time. She waved down a taxi, glad that she had kept her United States-affiliated credit cards inside her purse.

"Where to, ma'am?" The driver asked her.

"What's the fastest way to San Jose? I can't drive my own car."

"I could take you to a Bart station, I believe it will take you to Fremont. You'll need to take a taxi of some sort from there." The driver swerved to the right, Hermione grunting as she slammed into the side of the car.

"Have you heard of a little town called Ashbrook?" She looked out of the window, mesmerized by the Golden Gate Park as they passed it.

The driver peered at her suspiciously, eying her in the rear view mirror. "What's a young proper lady like you going to such a queer place?"

"Uhm... I didn't think there was anything wrong with it," Hermione said nervously.

"There's a good number of weird folk in robe like costumes and unconventional... items that they bring with them. Everyone knows that they go to Los Gatos and oddly disappear. We would think that it's gang related, but it is Los Gatos."

"What do you mean by that it's Los Gatos?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Ma'am, they have a Bentley, Aston Martin, and Lamborghini dealership a block down from the public high school. It's a rich town."

"Ah."

"So you're still going to Ashbrook?"

"Yup."

The driver shook his head sadly.

Draco groaned as he leaned back in his chair, surveying the scattered books, scribbled books, half-eaten dinners, and discarded wands strewn across the Medrex Company's library, he yawned, glancing over at Alex and Blaise, who were equally tired and disheveled in their appearance.

"I think it's time to turn in. For Merlin's sake, it's already 7 pm. We've been at this for hours, and you need to pick up Zayden from your mother's, right?" Draco directed at the two parents.

"You're right," Alex responded, beginning to clean her research area and organize the books into several neat piles. "Blaise, I have no patience to deal with your mother, so you're picking Zayden up."

"Fine," Blaise sighed, waving his wand to organize his table and clean up the leftover Thai food. Draco tidied up his own area, and held the door open as the Zabinis filed out of the library and walked towards the company's fireplaces. Blaise went first, calling out the address of his mother's home.

"Staying another night with us?" Alex asked Draco as she grabbed a handful of Floo powder.

"If it's all right with you, I wouldn't mind."

"Not a problem. Zabini Manor!" Alex called out, disappearing in a flurry of green flames. Draco followed after her, meeting her again in the green sitting room.

"Do you play much anymore?" Draco asked Alex as she drew the drapes shut.

"What are you talking about?" she inquired, turning to face him.

Draco motioned to the piano, shrugging. "Well, I mean it seems like a waste to have a nine foot grand piano in your home if you never play."

She grinned, "I do, but not as often as I'd like. Zayden and Ara play as well, it's too bad Ara can't practice at Hogwarts. All of those days she misses..." Alex shook her head.

"Hmm, I think McGonagall ought to have a piano somewhere. You should ask her."

"I'll have to. Remind me to write her tomorrow."

"Will do."

The flames behind them heightened, announcing Zayden and his father's arrival. "Mommy, why didn't you and Dad pick me up earlier? I thought the fune...fune-thingy ended earlier. Tzara was perfectly obnoxious during dinner today. She left before I did, and Aunty Tashy said that you guys left the fune-thingy ended like... four hours beforehand!" Zayden ended with an aghast exclamation.

"Sorry Zay, Mommy and Daddy had to do some work to help Aunty Tori," Alex explained, picking Zayden up to hug him.

"Did it have to be now?" Zayden asked, frowning. "You don't even like Aunty Tori," Zayden pointed out.

"Well..." Alex began, but was interrupted by two owls competing for a spot to bang on the windows. Blaise frowned. "Are those owls?" he asked, pulling back the drapes. Sure enough, two Hogwarts school owls were tapping the windows with their beaks, and Blaise let them in.

"Zay, could you grab the teapot and the hot water kettle?"

"Okay Daddy." Zayden let go of his mother's neck and dropped to the floor, rushing to the kitchen to grab the necessary items.

"Draco, this one's for you," Blaise informed him, handing a messily written envelope. Draco sighed, recognizing Scorpius's handwriting. Honestly, all of that wasted money on penmanship classes! Draco thought it was a lame idea, but Astoria and his mother had insisted claiming that "all respectable gentlemen have appropriate handwriting." Please. The English language was already deteriorating, everyone would be typing things up the muggle way sooner or later. Draco opened the letter curiously.

_Dad,_

_My friends and I decided to research Mum's condition and see what options there were for her. Granger's child, as you call Weasley, helped loads to help Ara and me make a list of treatments. I guess Potter helped a bit, too, but he was grumbling the majority of the time. Hope this helps Mum, and you should stay with Aunty Alex and Uncle Blaise._

_Enclosed:_

_Baruffio's Brain Elixir_

_Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction_

_Memory Potion and its variations_

_Anti-Paralysis Potion_

_Mandrake Restorative Draught_

Perhaps similar effects on comas? (in Rose's messy cursive)

_Magi-Me-More Pills_

_Revive Potion_

_Scintillation Solution_

_Wit-Sharpening Potion_

_Resipisco_, _created by Professor Norris Brigateer in 1471._

_This spell was created in 1471 by Professor Norris Brigateer, in hopes to awaken his father from a coma induced by a concussion. Unfortunately, Brigateer's attempt, although successfully awakening his father from a coma, did not allow his father to fall asleep when necessary. Brigateer's father died shortly thereafter, due to a lack of sleep. Since then, healers have not trifled with the spell again. In 1645, Healer Cuthbert Scobahull attempted to find a counterspell in hopes to restore the sleep necessary for various coma patients, but was unsuccessful. The mechanisms of the _Resipisco _spell have not been studied, seeing that the spell is fairly useless to the Healing field._

_Expergedueram_.

_In 1292, Henecoc Walbrook experimented with the Latin wording of _Expergefactam _in awakening his wife from a deep slumber, known in the fairy tale of _Sleeping Beauty. _The best incantation resulted in _Expergedueram, _but it only lasted for brief periods of time. Walbrook's wife would awaken for a few hours, but the potency of the spell wore off quickly. Further research on the spell has not discovered the biological effects of the spell, though some Spell Composition Specialists (SPS), namely Richard Panshawe, speculate that the wording of the spell required too much energy to continue its effects. Panshawe consistently advocated its use for awakening patients in long term comas, but animal trials have proven that the spell requires an excessive amount of energy that the mice used in experimentation did not possess. After these studies, the _Expergedueram _spell became obsolete._

_Love, Scorp_

"Did you guys get a list of treatments from Ara?" Draco asked the two, who were both sitting down and reading their much more extensive letter. Zayden entered the sitting room, hauling a tea set with him.

"Yup. I'm guessing you got one from Scorp?" Alex looked up to Draco. He nodded in confirmation.

"You know, you could've accio'ed the tea set," Draco suggested, looking sympathetically at Zayden. Zayden put his hands on his hips after placing the tea set on the coffee table.

"I can't use magic like that yet. Duh!" Zayden exclaimed as if Draco were the dumbest person in the world.

"I know that bud, I was talking to your parents."

"It's dangerous with the porcelain," Blaise explained, still reading the longer letter from his daughter.

Alex seemed to finish the letter first, and whisked Zayden up into her arms. "Bath time!" she announced, to which Zayden promptly began wriggling with excitement.

"Can Uncle Draco wash me?" Zayden asked. Alex paused, looking at Draco.

"Sure, I'll come," Draco said, and Alex handed Zayden over to Draco.

"Thanks," Alex smiled, relieved that she would be out of the splash zone. Blaise tsked.

"You know, love, that when Draco stops bathing Zayden, it's still your turn," Blaise teased. Alex rolled her eyes, ignoring him.

"Type of tea for afterwards, Draco?"

"Earl Grey, and the usual milk and sugar combo," he answered, stepping out the French doors to head up the staircase.

"And mister, don't forget that we'll be practicing your apparition technique after!" Alex called, receiving a groan in response. Alex turned back to Blaise, who was just finishing the list and contemplating the various potions and spells. She flicked her hand towards the kettle, filling it with water and setting a warming charm around it. "So, what do you think?" Alex settled down in his lap, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Blaise inhaled, pausing to collect his thoughts. "Well, first of all, it's impressive that those four even bothered to look it up, and it's a great starting place for us. They helped us skip a pretty significant portion of the research. I think we can reasonably conclude that there are no treatments for Tori, and that we'll have to be creative. We're going to have to create a spell or potion, and it's not going to be easy."

Alex shifted in his lap. "From the list, it seemed like potions were more promising, but creating potions is quite a bit trickier and less efficient," Alex stated. "I think we should start off with spells, because potions just won't fit our timeframe. The cancer could be especially malignant, which is what we're assuming. She'll be lucky to survive to Christmas!"

Blaise rubbed Alex's shoulders, caught up in the thought process as well. "I agree," he stated tiredly. "We can get some of the potions labs working on it, but we'll focus first on spells. It's not going to be a single word incantation."

"I'm worried, Blaise. Can we do it in time?"

"To be frank, it's not likely. But since when have you ever cared about the odds?" Blaise grinned at his wife. She smiled playfully.

"Oh, I cared a bit when I calculated how likely I'd have attractive children when I married you. Your genes barely made the cut," she teased.

"Do not insult the Italian Stallion!" Blaise said indignantly. "Besides, I got to marry you - that's what matters," Blaise leaned in for a kiss.

"OH! My _eyes!_ They burn!" Draco shouted upon entering the sitting room.

"Gross!" Zayden squealed, covering his eyes with his hands. Alex and Blaise broke apart, laughing.

"Why is it gross, Zayden? Don't you want your Daddy and Mommy to love each other?" Alex picked up the six-year old.

"Well..." Zayden thought a little bit. "It's still gross."

"Oh really?" Blaise asked with a smirk, standing up next to his wife. Zayden nodded his head vigorously. Blaise swooped in and captured Zayden's mother's mouth, sandwiching their poor, thoroughly-grossed out son.

"EEWW!" Zayden protested, wriggling as his parents began French kissing. "Uncle Draco! Save me!"

Draco smiled at the struggling child. "Oh, I don't know, Zay. You're pretty stuck. I don't think I can get you out of there without your parents voluntarily separating. Trust me Zayden, they could go on for a long time. Your mother was a swimmer, after all."

"SO WHAT?" Zayden scrunched his face, still wriggling.

"She doesn't need to come up for air. Your father has great stamina, too."

"How long?" Zayden asked tentatively.

"A long time, bud."

His eyes widened comically. "Like, four hours?"

Draco chuckled. "Could be, but somehow I don't think that they'll swap spit for that long."

Blaise flicked his hand at Draco, levitating the blonde out of the room, Draco laughing all the way out. "Couldn't you have waited until Zayden and I were asleep?" Draco called.

Alex flicked her wrist, and the doors slammed shut on Draco, who was openly guffawing.

Eventually, Alex and Blaise broke apart, setting their son free. Zayden demanded that Draco put him to bed, especially disgusted with his parents' affectionate spectacle. After a tentative hug to both his parents, Zayden bade them goodnight, rushing upstairs to avoid any other public displays of affection.

Draco followed Zayden to his room, still slightly shocked at the transformation the room had taken from when Zayden was first born till now. There were no more stars decorating the ceiling, no little blue boxes hurtling through time and space. Although the room kept the deep blue color on its walls, the twinkling night sky had been replaced with Quidditch teams whizzing back and forth. A fair share of muggle toys, those blocks called... lay-goes? Draco pondered. Legos, he corrected himself as he saw the logo on the blue tub. Legos were scattered across the floor in the corner alongside a legion of Roman soldier... minee-figgs.

Draco was about to wave his hand to clean up said Legos when Zayden jumped on his arm with an anguished cry, "no!"

"Zayden, it's a mess. What would your mum say?"

"Not my minifigs!" Zayden declared angrily, stomping his foot down and still clutching Draco's arm. "Mommy understands. It took so _long_ to fix them all up!" Zayden protested. "Please don't mess it up, Uncle Draco."

"All right, bud. I won't touch it, I promise. Now, get into bed. You've finished all of your homework already, I take it?"

"Silly Uncle Draco, I finished it in... well I don't know how long, but it wasn't four hours!"

"Well, that's good. I hope it didn't take too long. You'll have plenty of time to deal with four-hour long assignments at Hogwarts," Draco muttered, but Zayden heard, his mouth hanging agape.

"You have to do that at Hogwarts?" he asked aghast.

"Eventually..." Draco answered truthfully.

"I'm not going to Hogwarts," Zayden declared as he pulled the blankets up to his chin. "Poor Ara."

"She probably doesn't have to deal with that yet. We'll see how you feel in five years, bud."

"I won't change my mind. Goodnight, Uncle Draco."

"Goodnight," Draco replied, kissing Zayden fondly on the top of his head. Draco stood up and exited the room, surprised to find Alex just at the doorway.

"You're a great father, Draco. You should've had another kid," she sighed.

Draco shook his head. "It wasn't in the marriage contract, and Tori didn't want to bother. We both thought that as a couple, it'd be completely irresponsible to screw up another kid."

"Oh Draco, Scorp isn't screwed up at all! Yes, he's snarky. Yes, he's sarcastic, but beyond his sharp tongue and slightly condescending attitude, he's fundamentally a good kid. And that is what matters. He could be the next Steve Jobs or Kingsley Shacklebolt, but if he compromises his principles, he would be a failure as a person. He's not that person. He's the kid who shares his cauldron cakes with Ara. He's the kid who helped teach Zayden how to walk. He's the kid who counts the strawberries on a cake and determines the best way to split them evenly amongst everyone. That's a success in it of itself," she praised, laying a hand on Draco's shoulder.

Draco smiled at her. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me! Congratulate yourself on a job well done thus far!"

Draco followed her down the stairs, where Blaise was sipping some freshly made tea. Alex handed Draco his cup, and he relaxed as the tea soothed him. The Zabinis were his true family, Draco thought, mulling that idea over. He spent more time in the Zabini Manor than the Malfoy Manor; he and Astoria had had a row over it before. When hadn't he and Astoria fought over those things? A thought struck him.

"Why'd you come up to Zayden's room?" Draco asked Alex, who was busily stirring her tea.

"Oh, we heard Zayden stomping about his Legos, so I just came up to check on you. Both of us have been... test subjects for Zayden's accidental magic."

"Ahh," Draco nodded his head in understanding. "So..." his eyes focused on Scorpius's letter, laid out on the coffee table. "What did you think of Scorp and Ara's list?"

"Well, we agreed it was a good starting point, and that we'll focus more on spells," Blaise stated. Draco rose an eyebrow.

"But there seemed to be more success in potions," Draco pointed out.

"Right, but it's time consuming and we don't have any time to spare with Tori," Blaise replied firmly. "Spells are easier to test and develop. We can set the potions division on it once the heart disease product is finished, but we can't wait."

Draco nodded slowly, seeing the importance of time. "All right, any conclusions?" he asked, yawning. It had been a taxing day.

"Actually, I don't know if Scorp mentioned this, but Ara mentioned that Albus had a brilliant epiphany," Alex added.

"I don't recall, but I don't think he said anything about Potter's spawn," Draco frowned.

"Well, basically he hypothesized that the reason why generic attempts at coma-releasing spells failed is because the magic isn't focused well on each of the causes creating the overall coma. Because the spell is trying to help everything at once, something goes wrong, being so spread out," Alex explained. Draco put down his tea and looked into space thoughtfully.

"So, we might need several spells rather than one. And, they would have to be rather specific..." Draco trailed off.

Blaise sighed. "I hope we won't need more than two or three spells - spell combinations are tricky."

The three adults paused, silently mulling over the design of such spells. Once Alex had finished her tea, she pulled Draco up to a standing position. "Come on, apparition practice time."

Draco groaned. "Now?"

"Unless you'd like me to wake you up bright and early tomorrow morning. I thought I'd let you sleep in, but if you insist..."

"You... you manipulating witch!" Draco pointed an accusing finger at her.

"I did marry a true Slytherin," Blaise smirked. "I'm staying here with Zayden tonight, Alex and I decided."

Draco snorted. "Meaning you played an intense game of rock-paper-scissors and Alex lost."

"Chandler wouldn't have..." Alex grumbled.

"And you're not Chandler! Have fun, love!" Blaise smirked cheekily. Alex really wanted to hit him, but decided a sticking charm would be better suited. So, with a flick of her wrist, Blaise was 'permanently' glued to his seat. Alex then contentedly left with Draco, passing through the main hallway towards the main entrance, where the apparition spots were located for more public events.

"Where to?" Alex asked Draco casually.

"ALEXANDRA ZABINI GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE THIS INSTANT AND UNDO IT!" Blaise shouted loudly from the sitting room. Draco merely raised an eyebrow, as per usual.

"Slytherin, what more can I say?" she shrugged, chuckling.

"What in the BLAZES did you use to prevent the counter-jinx?!" Blaise shouted angrily. "What if I have to pee?"

Draco immediately covered his private parts. "Alex, you were just saying how I'd be an excellent father to more children-"

"You can adopt," she suggested mischievously. "Relax, ugly duckling, I just stuck my gorgeous husband to his seat."

Draco relaxed, holding out his arm. "How about the Manor? I ought to check up on my house elves, and I need to pick up some files for work."

"Perfect. Now, silent and concentrated," Alex pleaded.

"Is it bad that I automatically think of your dad when you say that?" Draco laughed. "He'd say something to the effect of clearing out the whole room in ten seconds," he teased, while Alex made a face. Draco apparated them to Malfoy Manor.

Draco's apparition was much quieter this time, and Alex didn't feel quite as nauseous as before. "Better," Alex praised. "I think you'll get it back to silent in very little time."

Draco smirked, walking through the main foyer and walking up the black marble staircase on the left. Alex casually followed him, presumably towards Draco's study in the Upper East Wing of the Manor. Alex didn't typically visit Draco in this area of the house, so it was slightly unfamiliar.

As they passed through a long, arched hallway, the portraits of various Malfoy ancestors greeted Draco, some more frostily than others. Alex stopped in her tracks at the portrait of Bellatrix Lestrange, shocked that Narcissa and Draco hadn't destroyed it. Draco noticed Alex's pause, and turned to see the cause of her stopping. He sighed as Bellatrix stared defiantly and maniacally at Alex, cackling a little.

"Draco dear, come speak with your Auntie. My, what a pretty little thing. Do clear up any evidence before Astoria comes back," Bellatrix jeered, eyes appraising Alex.

Alex really, really, really wanted to slap the bitc- ahem, witch, but she couldn't do any harm to a portrait, so she simply glared at the maniacal woman. Alex probed the anti-flammable, anti-silencing, and permanent sticking charms with her aura.

Draco made to pull Alex away, but Bellatrix shrieked before he could direct Alex elsewhere. "You! Stop touching my protections! Quit that!" she screeched, slapping away at the edges of the portrait, where Alex's magical aura was probing. "That's not possible!" Bellatrix screamed. "Not even the Dark Lord could-"

Bellatrix's mouth continued to move, but no sound came out. She appeared shocked, realizing this, and made a variety of rude gestures.

"I think, Bellatrix, you'll find that there are at least four people currently residing in this country that are far more powerful than you or your precious Lord could ever dream of being," Alex said calmly. "I think you'll also have to consider a rather different word than impossible, as I've found that anything, really, is possible." Alex nodded to Draco. "You've said it yourself, Bellatrix. Voldemort's heir was capable of so much more than the Dark Lord himself. Oh don't look so surprised. Draco and I are very good friends, not that you've been kept in the loop at all. Anyways, I'm sure your sister and nephew wouldn't mind a portrait burning session soon," Alex nonchalantly continued on, ignoring the bitch's infuriated gesticulations and visually sputtering rage.

They continued down to Draco's office, but upon entering the room, both Alex and Draco halted in shock at the scene before them: Harry Potter having tea with none other than Narcissa Malfoy. Narcissa stood up with a smile, greeting her son and Alex. "We were just about to owl you!" Narcissa said brightly.

Harry did not smile, looking Draco straight in the eye. "Malfoy, though I concede you are a better person, now, than before, I know a prophecy when I see one. And you are the most likely of Hermione's best friends to succumb to the Dark. I am keeping an eye on you, and I will get to the bottom of this."

"Are you threatening me?" Draco asked snidely. Alex and Narcissa both gave him disapproving looks.

"I thought you of all people would understand. Being a Slytherin, you live by the three B's: bribery, blackmail, and bullying," Harry shot back, before stepping into the Floo in a whirl of green flames.

**AN: Hello readers! Sorry it's been so long, but I had loads of application essays to write, so I wasn't feeling all that inspired. I'm just about to finish my last application, so we should be getting more updates more quickly. Side note, while you wait for the next chapter, (which will have a bit of a time jump, I warn you), check out a story I co-authored with one of my friends! It's called Tom Riddle's Daughters, you can type in /s/9002995/1/Tom-Riddle-s-Daughters without the space. It's short and (in our opinion) quite funny, so please favorite/review to give us some love! Doctor Who starts up again this Saturday, so watch it! Shout out to people from Laos! And of course, the usual plea for reviews! I adore them!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

_A few months later..._

"So, have you heard anything new about your mum's condition?" Emelda asked Scorp, nudging him as the owls flew in, carrying the daily mail.

"No," he sighed. "Ara's mum and dad are helping my dad as much as possible, but there aren't any guarantees. They've made considerable headway with their mouse trials, but their spell still needs some tweaks." He frowned, a bit dejected.

"I'm sure they'll figure it out in time," Emelda said confidently, reassuring him.

"I don't know... it's already November, and Healer Davies's... proggg... what's that word?"

"Prognosis?" Ara offered from across the table.

"Prognosis, yeah. She said that my mum probably won't survive past Christmas," Scorpius finished.

"Speaking of November, I'm absolutely infuriated that Zayden gets a Thanksgiving Feast when I don't. Granted, he didn't get the Halloween Feast here at Hogwarts, but I'm missing out on my mom's ribs and salmon! Ugh, I wish we were Americans," Ara complained, picking at her eggs.

"I've heard good things about their turkeys," Jayce commented, looking up from buttering his fourth piece of toast.

"Of course you'd focus on the food," Emelda scoffed.

"Don't mess, all right? Food is a necessary item for your survival, so don't dis it," Jayce shot back.

"OH! Dearie me!" Emelda cried as an owl tumbled into her food. "Klutzy, you sure live up to your name," she tutted, pulling a copy of the Daily Prophet from a plate of muffins. Klutzy hooted indignantly and flew off, spraying crumbs as he flapped his wings. Emelda unfurled the newspaper, scanning over the major stories.

"Blah, blah blah. Medrex opens new heart disease branch in Italy, high profile Sheilathan drama, blah, blah, blah, George Weasley launches new grass growing products, Granger-Weasley saves Totsy the Bulstrode family's house elf, the Holyhead Harpies destroyed by the Eagle Elites, blah, blah, thin-bottomed cauldrons prove to be an actual issue, France falls prey to terrorist activities, Marcus Flint breaks out of Azkaban, Scamander Family provides magical creature committees factual evidence surrounding the Peritrappsa's violent flatulence habits, blah.."

Scorpius and Ara spat out their respective drinks. "Marcus Flint _broke out_?" they screeched. The entire Hall turned to look at them.

Emelda blanched, furiously looking around. "Hush! You guys draw so much attention to us!"

"Give me that!" Scorpius snarled, snatching the newspaper out of Emelda's hands. Ara and he quickly flipped pages, finding the article. As they both read it (Ara's grandfather had taught her how to read upside down), they both looked at each other, coming to a silent agreement. They bolted out of their seats, carrying away Emelda's newspaper as they went.

"Hey!" she cried indignantly, but they had already made their way to Albus, some of the surrounding Hufflepuffs quaking in fear at the two Slytherins' presence. With one glance at the article, Albus was jumping out of his seat, pointing towards Rose, who had already seen the article and was grimly walking towards the other three. Once united, they strode towards McGonagall, who immediately ushered them out of the hall.

"I wonder what's going to happen..." Connor pondered, looking at the doors when they slammed shut again.

"Hopefully nothing too bad," Elliot muttered to his friend.

"You know, in Trelawney's class the other day?"

"What about it?"

"Remember how she was blabbing on about whatever planet or constellation?"

"Yup," Elliot confirmed, popping the p as he popped a grape into his mouth.

"She kind of went into this trance, with that really weird voice like - thissss-" Connor imitated, facial expression and all.

"So what? It's Trelawney."

"It seemed different this time."

"It's nothing. Her prophecies are a load of bat spleens. Forget it. I don't really remember it anyways, so it can't be _that_ important."

"You were probably distracted with inventing new ways to snog the daylights out of Amy..." Connor grumbled.

Elliot sighed. "If only..."

Connor frowned, unhappy with his friends' casual dismissal. Trelawney's words played in his mind. Over and over again, they cycled. Did it actually mean anything?

_As the Scorpio rises with the daughter of light_

_And the badger strips the rose of its thorns,_

_There is a darkness that threatens and will put up a fight_

_But only the black and white warrior can detect it_

_Should the warrior fail, the puzzle is lost_

_And the livelihoods of many will die as the cost_

Warrior of black and white? Daughter of light? The Scorpio seemed to refer to the already infamous Scorpius Malfoy, and perhaps the Rose meant Rose Weasley. Badger... why did that sound familiar. BINGO! Hufflepuffs.

_Albus Potter?_ Connor thought. It seemed feasible.

So the last kid would be Araluen, to complete everything. But if she's the daughter of light... No. There wasn't anything that suggested that that could be Ara. Maybe Emelda?

_That doesn't make sense._

Puzzle? What puzzle? Who was that warrior?

Scorp, Ara, Rose, and Albus followed McGonagall's anxious pace to her office, looking at each other nervously. Ara met Rose's eyes, holding both determination and a hint of fear.

"Even Gryffindors get scared," Ara's father had once told her.

McGonagall arrived at the Gryffin statues, muttering a password and walking through the opening. Albus stopped mid step, and Scorp gave him an annoyed shove.

"Come on," Scorp grit out.

"I... I just got it!" Albus said in his epiphany, beginning to follow the others. "Gryffin statues guard a _door_. Get it? Gryffindor?" he asked excitedly.

Scorp rolled his eyes, Araluen looked thoughtful, and Rose smiled grandly. "Fast one, you are," Scorp scoffed.

Ara hushed him, looking at Albus curiously. Albus felt weird under her scrutiny. It seemed as if... and old soul was staring into his young one. Rose was about to shoot back a retort about Slimy Slytherins, but they arrived in the office before she could retaliate.

"Good morning, Minerva," Dumbledore called out from above their heads. "To what do we owe the pleasure of these four students' presence?"

"Unfortunately, Marcus Flint has escaped Azkaban. And unlike Sirius -" McGonagall cut off Snape's beginnings of a rant. "- we know for certain that he is a threat, and I hope to avoid a repeat of that."

"Wasn't Great Uncle Sirius an... annah...tahhh...guss?" Albus asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he attempted to recall that term.

"Potter's spawn," Snape spat. "I'm not surprised he can't recall a simple concept like an animagus. Your father-"

"Named him after you," Ara interrupted.

"was an arrogant - wait. What?" Snape enunciated slowly, glaring at the Zabini girl.

"Albus, tell him what your name is," Rose said lightly. McGonagall and Dumbledore looked on, amused.

"Albus Severus Potter," the Hufflepuff boy answered. "He told me that you were the bravest man he's ever known."

Snape narrowed his eyes at the young boy, but pursed his lips and pressed his mouth into a firm line, for once, speechless.

McGonagall smirked at Snape's response, barely restraining a chuckle. Dumbledore beamed at the young boy, but McGonagall hastily sent off her patronus, an elegant tabby cat, to collect the six parents. Within moments, the parents were flooing into the office.

First came Alex and Blaise, resplendent in their suits (Wizarding business had gone muggle in its attire in order to work with successful muggle companies), closely followed by Draco.

Harry and Ginny burst in, knocking Draco into Alex. "Watch it Potter," Draco growled.

Harry glared at him, but turned back as Hermione stepped out of the floo, hair wildly escaping from her professional bun. She didn't even pause to brush the ash off of her suit, dashing past the other assorted adults to squash Rose in a hug.

"I can't believe this," she muttered. "I can't, I can't!" she repeated, stroking Rose's hair.

"Scorp, Ara, you guys okay?" Blaise asked for Draco and Alex, both wringing their hands. Draco put a hand on Scorp's shoulder, while Alex and Blaise both gently kissed the top of Ara's head. Harry and Ginny fiercely hugged Albus, who squeaked in protest as the Potters squeezed him into a sandwich-hug.

At Harry's arrival, Snape found his voice again. "Potter, if you're intent to suffocate your own offspring, I'd gladly see to your new living arrangements in Azkaban."

Harry pulled out of the hug to look up at his former potions master, the man who had sacrificed so much for a love never meant to be. Harry nodded, once. "Thank you, sir," Harry said with the most respect Snape had ever heard from the man. Snape returned the nod, but then walked out of the portrait moments later. Dumbledore smiled kindly at the gathered group.

"I believe that we are all together, Minerva," he said lightly. McGonagall nodded, conjuring chairs for everyone.

"Harry, would you explain what you know so far?" McGonagall asked, settling down in her own chair.

Harry cleared his throat, as all sets of eyes were upon him. "As of four a.m. last night, one of the Azkaban guards was making his rounds when he noticed that Marcus Flint's cell was entirely blasted open. He ran into the room, but Flint was already gone. The room was covered in rubble, and... well, mud." Harry looked sympathetically towards Hermione. All of the adults knew where this was leading, but the kids looked cluelessly at each other. "There was one message. 'The Mudblood Must Die.'" Malfoy flinched, and Hermione gripped Rose's hand a bit tighter.

"We've sent out search teams to the immediate closest areas to Azkaban, but he could be anywhere. It's likely that someone busted Flint out, too, so it's practically impossible to know where to catch him. Flint didn't have a wand, and he had very little ability to use wandless magic. There must have been an outside force helping him, who could be hiding him anywhere."

"Question: why wasn't this on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_?" Alex asked, frowning.

"Ugh," Ginny groaned. "Parvarti's incompetent sometimes. She wouldn't rearrange it until tomorrow's issue, so she put a half-arsed article in the last bit for today."

"Well, we know 'Mione's a target. So, we should be looking at tightened security for her and her family, right?" Alex pointed out.

Hermione made a noise of protest, and everyone turned to her. "I don't know if that's really... necessary," she explained. Rose frowned at her mother, unable to see any logic. "I mean, you guys are dealing with things in France, so the Auror department is already low on people. You shouldn't need to-"

Harry's and Draco's mouths hung agape at her stupidity. "Hermione!" they both exclaimed, but stopped and glared at each other. Draco conceded first, waving his hand for Harry to go first.

"Didn't you hear what I just said? He's targeting _you_ Hermione. Specifically, _you_. We're more likely, in fact, to catch him if we're around you. Are you going to put Hugo's life at risk, too?" Harry demanded, and Hermione buried her face in her hands.

"We should probably station security measures around all of Hermione's close friends, too," McGonagall suggested. "And I'd appreciate Aurors stationed around Hogwarts for Rose's and the other students' safety."

Harry nodded. "I'm working on that already Professor. We're going to have to pull out of France, but maybe the Department of Law Enforcement can help us, too."

"Why exactly is he after my mum?" Rose asked. Alex, Draco, and Blaise stiffened, while Harry just looked suspiciously exhausted. Ara and Scorp narrowed their eyes at their parents, while Hermione looked clueless.

"Well, Rosie, you know how I was warning you about the purebloods who still hate muggleborns like me?" Rose nodded. "That's part of the problem. This man also seems to believe that I killed his children - he's not right in the mind," Hermione explained.

"But you'd never do that!" Rose protested.

"I know," Hermione sighed.

"That's not all, is it though?" Scorp asked pointedly at his father and godparents.

"What else do you know?" Ara asked.

"No, there's more to it," Alex sighed. We went in to ask flint some questions that we had hoped would help us heal Astoria, but, instead... he spoke about some sort of prophecy surrounding your mother, Rose."

Hermione looked astonished at Alex. "Nice of you to tell me about this. Well? What did it say?" she demanded.

"Essentially, that you could be the leader of three other people in destroying the world and spreading darkness everywhere," Blaise said quietly. "They'd be your best friends, too."

Ginny gulped. "So this was just... just a possibility, right? This wasn't the certain future?"

"Well, if you're even to believe that Flint isn't completely crazy. You're correct." Alex confirmed.

"Do you know who?" Ginny asked nervously.

"Well, I'd say the gathered group of adults here are Hermione's best friends..." Blaise said quietly. Scorpius wanted to face palm. And as Scorp predicted...

"Malfoy's been on the Dark Side before," Harry pointed out accusingly. "So has Zabini."

"Oh that's rich, coming from the boy who had a piece of Voldemort living inside him," Draco shot back. "How do we know he didn't rub off?"

"You have no idea what it's like to be possessed by Voldemort!" Ginny cried, jumping to her husband's defense.

"Oh, that's right. You do!" Blaise scoffed. "Maybe this time, the Gryffindors will be the fighters for the Dark, seeing as they haven't endured the horrors of being on the Dark Side during the last war."

"So you admit it!" Harry cried out triumphantly.

"STOP!" Albus shouted, getting everyone's attention. "Don't you see? This is exactly what Flint needs! He needs us to argue and accuse, dividing us so that we slip up so that someone else dies! This isn't helping us or Hermione, so what is the point of accusing? We don't even know if this is for real!" Hermione and Alex smiled at the boy, and the rest of the room was silenced into shame.

Dumbledore started clapping slowly.

"That, my friends, is the answer to what the hell a Hufflepuff is," he grinned kindly at the young boy.

"Don't tell me you have a Zefron Poster, too," Scorpius groaned. "I swear, the things muggles do."

"You're in tune with Star Kid?" Harry asked the blonde incredulously. "Seriously, a Malfoy-"

"Anyways," McGonagall cleared her throat. "I trust, Harry, that we will have security within the week?"

"Yes, I will see to it," he affirmed.

"Good. IS there much else to discuss?" McGonagall asked, looking at each person in turn shrewdly.

"What about an escape plan?" Alex asked. "We always had evacuation routes for intruder situations in America."

"Spoken like a true Slytherin. Can't say I'm surprised," Ginny sneered. Blaise was beyond pissed.

"Just because some people are smart enough to have a back-up plan instead of charging blindly into battle without any brains does not mean they are cowards!" he growled. "Where were you when Hermione's parents were kidnapped? Where were you when she fought the people who wanted her dead the most? Did we run then? When the most psychotic Death Eaters attacked us? Did we join Death Eater Daddies? NO! We bloody FOUGHT for Hermione and her parents! Just because we aren't labelled as Saint Gryffindors does not mean we won't stand up and take action when it is needed! We are _not_ cowards, you prejudiced bigot!" Blaise yelled.

"You need to open your eyes up to the rest of the world, Ginevra. The world isn't divided up into Gryffindors and Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Move beyond your ridiculous school rivalries because _our children's lives are at stake_!" Alex emphasized. "Don't you want your children to live? Wouldn't you rather James and Albus to escape than die?"

Hermione's eyes seemed to blacken every second the argument became more heated, but Draco noticed her hand twitching, straying towards her left forearm. Harry was now trying to defend his wife, but Alex noticed Hermione's stone-like composure as well. The children were looking at each other, frightened at the parental disagreements. McGonagall was trying to hush everyone when the room darkened, the candles exploding in a mess of molten wax. Alex and Draco looked at each other, nodded, and stupefied Hermione.

"Why the bloody hell did you stupefy Hermione?!" Harry roared.

"The room darkened, the candles exploded, and Hermione was doing something weird. When we stupefied her, it all stopped," Draco sneered slowly, as if explaining it to a five year old. "I'm a bit wary of Granger after Flint's prediction."

Alex went over to Hermione, and lifted the sleeve on Hermione's left forearm, where Hermione had been clutching at her shirt. Everyone gasped, it was bruised and battered into purple-yellow splotches. Not only that, but her faded "mudblood" scar was oozing a nasty black liquid.

"Holy Helga! What's wrong with her arm?" Albus shrieked worriedly.

"That's not a typical bruise," Ara said nervously. Rose's eyes were wide with shock.

"Oh Merlin, Hermione!" Ginny was shouting. Harry had lept to his feet, bellowing something as well, but Ara's mother and father were already in motion. Alex had sent off her patronus to St. Mungo's, while Blaise levitated her towards the fireplace. Draco muttered a quick word to Scorp, who nodded, but with worry lines creasing his young forehead. Draco and Alex shot various diagnostic spells as they made their way to the fireplace, but the results came up frustratingly blank. McGonagall was frantically sending portraits off to notify someone to take the children back to their classes. Alex rushed a goodbye, as did Blaise, who was closely followed by Draco and the distraught Potters. Once Professor Pucey arrived, McGonagall departed as well. In the span of two minutes, the Headmistress's office had become utterly silent - a stark contrast from the chaos beforehand.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Zabini, Mr. Malfoy, and Ms. Weasley, I know how confused you must be, but I will try to get Minerva to update you when she can," Dumbledore informed them before they left for class. "Don't worry yourselves to death, it would be counterproductive to your own lives."

Ara smiled sadly. "Goodbye, Professor." A few other portraits waved farewell to the students.

Luckily, their next class was Defense Against the Dark Arts, and they didn't have to explain their tardiness to Professor Pucey, who probably would have docked fifty house points each (except five for Slytherin), before hearing an explanation.

"Professor, we left our bags in the Great Hall... might we get them?" Rose asked, struggling to keep pace with Professor Pucey's quick strides.

"Why don't you practice a summoning charm?" Natasha suggested dryly. "You four are practically fifth years in terms of your spellwork. Give it a shot."

Ara and Rose frowned at each other. "_Accio book bag!_" they shouted simultaneously. As they passed the hallway leading to the Great Hall, soon enough, two book bags were clanging against each other and any obstacles in the way to their owners. However, both bags fell short by about half a hallway.

"_Accio book bag!_" Albus tried, and bumped twice as many walls as Ara and Rose's did, but got slightly farther. Rose and Ara were trying again when Scorp drawled slowly.

"_Accio Scorp's book bag_."

A bag cam whizzing at them successfully making it all the way to Draco's son, but from the opposite hall.

"How...?" Rose asked, dumbfounded. "Why...?"

"Forgot my books in the common room, it's a handy charm. Practiced it nearly every day last month."

Ara tsked, but Professor Pucey smiled.

"Nicely done, all of you. Forty points to Slytherin, twenty to Gryffindor, and twenty to Hufflepuff."

"You're so glad that Ara's not in Ravenclaw, aren't you?" Rose asked cheekily. Professor Pucey turned to face the Weasley girl.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" she asked boredly as they entered her classroom. All of the other first years turned to look at them, and Natasha sent a stinging hex at Horatio, who at least attempted to block it. He was getting better.

"Half a point to Hufflepuff for trying," she sighed.

Ara, Scorp, Albus, and Rose sat down in their desks as Professor Pucey strode up to the front of the room. "Break up into your skill level groups!" she commanded. "Get a move on! Come on, folks, we've had these groups for over a month." It took awhile for the students to pack up their bags and move, and Professor Pucey was becoming more exasperated by the minute.

"Harper Hopkins! It should not take you that long to pack up your books and move them ten feet from their original spot!" she shouted irritably. Scorpius snickered nudging Ara.

"Professor Pucey is so American. No one else uses the 'English' system of measurement, anymore."

"I concede, it is rather dumb," Ara smirked.

"You are all going to attempt a rather difficult charm, in light of Flint's escape from Azkaban. Since it is likely that dementors will begin patrolling the British Wizarding World, it would be handy to know the Patronus charm. I do not expect many of you to do this successfully, as you are first years. Even Harry freaking Potter only learned it in his third year. Nonetheless, surprise me. You're guaranteed an Oustanding in this class this year if you do," Professor Pucey outlined. "Now, think of the happiest memory possible, and say '_Expecto Patronum_'. Without your wands right now! Say it after me, '_Expecto Patronum_'. Good. Now try it with your wands, and I'll be coming around to help out your groups.

"_Expecto Patronum_," Albus said gently, successfully creating a silver shield. It vanished before it could become corporeal.

"Nicely done!" Ara praised.

"Praise him," Rose muttered.

"My dad's helped me, without actually doing that, of course, since it's illegal," Albust hastily attempted to explain what he meant by helping. "He taught me how to find the happiest memory, though. Said it'd come in handy."

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Rose tried, but only got a wisp of silver. "Memory must not be strong enough?" she asked Albus.

"Could be," he nodded.

"_Expecto Patronum_," Scorp attempted, but got nothing. "Happy memories, pfft. What a pile of bat spleens."

"Scorp..." Ara said, hushing him. "_Expecto Patronum_," she cast lightly. The silver shield came easily, and she caught a hint at her corporeal form before she became too excited and vanished her patronus. "It was a dolphin! So cute!" she cheered.

"Interesting," said Rose. "Your mum's patronus is a wolf, right?"

"Well, we saw it in McGonagall's office. So if you had something called eyes and a brain to interpret the visual senses, then you'd have seen it," Scorp snarked, as usual. "Weasley's mum is an otter, based on the first night here at Hogwarts, I take it. My dad's the dragon."

"My dad's a panther," Ara added. "Albus, your mom's a horse and your dad's a stag, right?"

Before he could answer, a swarm of silvery planaria flooded the air. As it disappeared, all eyes were on none other than Horatio McLaggen.

"The child of Romilda Vane and Cormac McLaggen. Figures," Rose giggled under her breath.

"Why did it have to be... whatever that is?" Horatio groaned.

"Planaria, I believe, Mr. McLaggen," Professor Pucey said stonily, assumedly controlling her own shock.

Scorpius miserably failed in retaining his laughter, and Horatio glared at him.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Pucey said slowly. "Why don't you show us your corporeal Patronus? Hm? Have you managed, yet?" she asked pointedly.

Scorpius's laughter halted immediately. He narrowed his eyes, sensing the challenge. Looking straight at Horatio, Scorpius needed to wipe that smug look off of McLaggen's face.

"_Expecto Patronum_," he said determinedly. A full blown falcon began soaring around the room, eliciting a few gasps of awe and a shriek or two.

"Well done, both of you. Twenty points to Slytherin, and ten points to Hufflepuff," Professor Pucey said boredly.

"Hey!" the other Hufflepuffs protested.

"You, Potter," Professor Pucey had her wand out pointed straight at Albus. "If you cast a corporeal patronus within the class period, you'll receive twenty points, doubled." Professor Pucey eyed the rest of the class. "Back to work, everyone!"

"What was your memory?" Rose questioned excitedly.

"McLaggen's swarm of planaria," Scorpius smiled evilly.

"You're horrible," Ara sighed exasperatedly. "Seriously, what was it?"

"None of anyone else's business," he replied simply. Ara huffed, but tried her own spell again.

"_Expecto Patronum_," she casted, concentrating hard. This time, a silvery dolphin greeted her, nuzzling its snout against her hand. "It's beautiful..." Ara smiled.

"_Expecto Patronum_," Rose tried again, but still didn't succeed. "Okay, what sort of memory did you guys use?"

Ara looked to Scorpius, who met her gaze stonily.

"I believe we used the same one, so Scorp doesn't want me to share. Try something perhaps a bit more complicated than... eating chocolate, for instance. Sometimes, it's the strongest memory. It has to be happy, but it can also be bittersweet."

Albus attempted, concentrating hard. "_Expecto Patronum!_" he yelled, launching a koala bear that tangled around the waves Ara's dolphin was making.

"Forty points to Hufflepuff and twenty points to Slytherin!" Professor Pucey called out from where she was correcting Emelda's wand motions. It took Rose awhile to get a memory worth the spell, but when she did, her tigress was well worth the wait. It truly was magnificent.

"Predictable," Scorp scoffed dismissively. Rose had really had enough. Taking a leaf out of Ara's book, she disarmed him, silenced him, stuck him to his chair, and unleashed a few stinging hexes for good measure.

"And my tigress could eat your pansy bird any day, easily," she spat. Scorp's eyes narrowed. "Oh? How does it feel to have your happiest memory taunted? I thought you would be better than your father was, but obviously, you're worse!" Rose cried, storming off to Emelda's group.

Ara ignored Scorp's pleading looks. "You deserved it," she said simply, and Albus nodded. By the end of the period, Professor Pucey had disabled the charm, but Scorp sat sulking in a corner.

"Hey, Rosie," James greeted, plopping down next to her in the library. She looked at him through a curtain of ginger hair, and then looked back down, without acknowledging him.

"Rose? What's wrong?" James asked gently.

"Everything!" she nearly shouted, receiving a glare from the new librarian, Madame Gateaux. Rose continued in a hushed, aggravated whisper.

"My dad's dead! My mum's hospitalized! For Merlin knows whatever was on her arm. Scorpius Malfoy is a complete, utter, prat-"

"I thought the Malfoy bloke was all right?" James asked puzzled. "Albus and you have told us to lay off, but if he's done anything-"

"No James, he hasn't actually _done_ anything, it's more his dry, cold, superior personality. He has enough sense to not touch on things like Dad's death or the rich versus the poor, or even blood purity. But, he just finds something else to insult, and while it's not as offensive, it gets tiring after awhile. The only one who can deal with him is Ara, but he respects her, well, treats her like an equal. Albus brushes everything off so easily, but Scorp... He just... gets to me, you know?"

"Yeah, Rose, that must be tough. I don't really know how to advise you, on one hand, it sounds like he doesn't mean any harm and that's just how he is. On the other hand, it bothers you. Maybe you should talk to him? Or maybe Ara? She could straighten him out, it seems."

"That's not a half bad idea..." Rose contemplated. "I'll try that. Thanks James."

"Plus, I heard Ara chewing Scorp out about it as I was coming through the Transfiguration Hallway."

Rose smiled, but not by much. "And as for your mum," James began, pulling out a letter from his book bag. "It's from Dad. He wanted to update you on Aunt 'Mione's condition."

Rose gingerly took the letter, hands shaking.

"Thanks James. Tell Uncle Harry I appreciate it. It means a lot."

James nodded before packing up and leaving Rose with his father's letter.

_Dear Rosie,_

_I've asked James to give you this letter, so that I can update you on your Mum's condition. Alex, Blaise, -M-Draco (it's awkward writing his first name - Merlin forbid I speak it) and you mum's healer, Hannah Davies, have determined that its some dark curse first put into place by... Draco's Aunt. During the war, as you know. Healer Davies is doing a good job healing your mum, but we aren't sure how to completely rid of it. It's not life threatening, but it looks like we Gryffindors and Slytherins need to coop-_

"Weasley!" someone shouted, interrupting her reading. There were only a few people who called her by her last name, and they were all Slytherins. Gavin Finnegan once spat it when she accidentally knocked into him in the hallway - and that Iridia von Loisson... And, of course, there was Scorpius Malfoy - who was the most likely of the three to be shouting her name in a library. Sacrilege.

"Malfoy." Rose acknowledged. "Watch out, Madame gateaux-"

"Oh blas madame gateaux to Pigfarts. My dad wanted me to give you this letter, about your mum's health. Oh- well. I see Potter has beat me to it," Scorpius's demeanour immediately soured as he glanced at Harry Potter's signature at the bottom of the page.

"Thanks, Malfoy," Rose said kindly, hoping to glaze over the Potter issue. "I really appreciate it."

"I'll just leave you to the words of a former Death Eater and his archenemy," Scorpius grit out, backing away quickly.

"Scorp-" Rose tried, but he was already gone. Had she really just called Malfoy by his first name? She shook her head to clear her thoughts, refocusing on the letter.

_-but it looks like we Gryffindors and Slytherins need to cooperate. Alex thinks that Hermione, sorry, your mum's curse was activated because of the argument we had. I personally believe that's a load of bat spleens out of Merlin's baggy pants (your Aunt Ginny just slapped me now, pardon my French), but I guess that's Alex's way of shaming us into cooperation. Anyways, everything's looking okay, though your mum's going to have weekly check-ups to further investigate the matter. But in general, your mum's fine. She'll actually be discharged later tonight. Depending on how she's feeling, she may or may not come by Hogwarts to say goodbye. I'm sure McGonagall will let you know._

_See you at Christmas, Rosie!_

_Fondly,_

_Your Uncle, Harry Potter._

Rose sat back into her chair, folding up Harry's letter and sticking it into her bag. She grabbed hold of draco Malfoy's letter, in an elegant cursive as opposed to Uncle Harry's chicken scratch. She turned the envelope over a few times in her hands before her curiosity got the better of her - and Rose opened it.

_Ms. Weasley,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I know it must be rather difficult, dealing with your mother's sudden injury. I hope to assuage some of your worries by giving you an update on your mother's health._

_She is doing well, and likely will not face any major or lasting complications with the curse on her arm. As Alex has informed me, you are aware of the origin of her scar. I am not proud to have been present at that time. It is likely that she received the curse when that scar was created, and we will be investigating it further. So far, it appears that the curse is not life threatening, and that is does not pose a threat to your family's safety, either. Or anyone else's safety, for that matter. She will have to follow up with Healer Hannah Davies (whom Alex insists is the best Healer for Dark Curses in the world) with weekly appointments. Beyond that, it appears that the most malignant effects of the curse have been neutralized._

_I will continue to send updates as best I can, unless you reply otherwise. Best wishes to you, and I'm sure your mother would say, study hard._

_Regards,_

_Draco Malfoy_

Rose shifted in her chair as she tucked the letter away. It was all right - clinical, detached, but sincere. The best she could've asked for from someone like Draco Malfoy. Rose sat up, propping her elbow up on the table and laying her chin in her palm. Tapping her right cheek, she pondered Draco Malfoy and his son, Scorpius. She recalled her conversation with Scorpius and Ara in Charms, about the perfect pureblood mask. Was the sarcastic Scorpius his own, personalized mask? Was he actually that cruel as a person? Or what was underneath it all? Ara didn't seem like the type to hang out with someone really rotten at the core, and well, Scorpius wasn't rotten at all. And then, there was the matter of Draco Malfoy.

Yes, Rose had half of her genes contributed by perhaps the most ignorant Weasley, but she also possessed the genes of Hermione Jean Granger. She did not fail to notice how Mr. Malfoy tried to avoid all contact with her mother, until her mother's safety was involved. It could have been excused as blood purity issues, but that didn't quite fit. He very clearly cared for her mother, but why? Dad had always hated Malfoy (the ferret, Dad had always so fondly called him), up until the very... the very last words he had said to her.

Rose couldn't handle that thought, clutching the sides of her head as the textbook in front of her swam in and out of focus.

Her Daddy. The one who held her on his shoulders, let her mush his face around to make ghastly expressions, the one who had ugly rage fits, but immediately apologized and tucked her hair behind her ear. The one who stuffed her silly with popcorn at the Chudley Cannons games.

Rose wasn't stupid. The funeral was early, to help her find closure sooner and move on.

Bat spleens.

Rose was better. Amelia didn't find her crying in corners anymore. Clara didn't have to withhold comments about the dried tear stains on Rose's pillow. James didn't find her ripping her hair out and screaming "Why?" at thin air anymore.

But had she really recovered? Or was she, like Scorpius, perfecting her own, personalized, mask?

**AN: Yay! New chapter! And a relatively quick update! So yes, there was a time jump. Yes, there was a fight (I couldn't wait to pit Slytherins on Gryffindors and bring up that old rivalry, honestly would it be realistic if they were holding hands, sitting around a fire singing campfire songs?) Thanks to all of the reviews, follows/favorites, and everyone in general! I'd like to thank a few users in particular for their reviews: Brenluvshp, ScorpionGurl97, Nette91, A Huge Dramione, Robyn Hawks, AdonnennieZillah, Roni2010, Ofred (nice Handmaid's Tale reference), SiffyEla, Cat Of Flames, MellethDaegyl, Sorceress of Magic, QuantumPhysica, and mingthemusical! Special thanks to Hunnyfied, Souloflead, and Snape'sPaige394, who have helped me brainstorm, laughed with me, pondered with me, etc. Have I shouted out to the the Philippines or Lithuania yet? If not, shout out to your views! Bit of a teaser, for you all.**

"**Have I never taught you anything boy? No? You may be Draco Malfoy, the redeemed one, the poor child abused by his nasty, prejudiced father. But I am Lucius Malfoy, and I **_**always**_ **come back."**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

_In a whirl of green flames._

"Hermione?" Alex looked up surprised from her computer as the British witch entered through the floo into her office.

"Hi Alex," Hermione greeted, a little too shyly for Alex's liking.

"Are you all right? Is your arm bothering you?"

"No..."

"Did you need something? Blaise should be back in a bit, and I'm always here to-"

"Actually, I'm here to see Draco," she interrupted. Alex raised her eyebrows. The last time Hermione had ever visited Draco at the office was... what, ten years ago? She had come to express her congratulations on Scorpius, but it was stiff and formal, ignoring the huge elephant of their previous relationship that was clearly stomping around the room.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably under Alex's studying gaze. Alex waved her hand, locking the doors and casting a _Muffliato_.

"Why?" Alex asked quietly. "After all this time, why now? You know he'll think you're only interested now that Ron's dead, and he doesn't like to be second choice," Alex warned her.

"Oh, I know, but... I just miss him!" Hermione exclaimed. Alex winced at the torment in her voice. Hermione clearly still loved Draco, but their relationship was so complicated.

Alex sighed. "Hermione, be careful. I would tell you to give it some time before you approach Draco, but I know that once something is on your mind, it will bother you until it is resolved. He's in a meeting right now, but he'll be back in about..." Alex checked her watch. "Seven minutes. You can wait in his office," Alex motioned to the door directly across from the floo, on Alex's right.

"Thanks Alex," Hermione gave her a nervous smile, and entered Draco's office after Alex had unlocked the doors and removed the soundproof charm.

Hermione surveyed the room, noting the black desk and numerous photos in silver frames on the walls and on Draco's desk. Most of them were of Scorpius, Blaise, Alex, and Narcissa. She felt a little sad that there was only one picture of her, and that was in Australia. She smiled nostalgically at the moving image, watching as Alex, Blaise, Draco, and she posed ridiculously on the beach. Hermione settled into one of the black leather chairs in front of the desk. Her eyes roamed over the computer, and she inwardly grinned at Draco's use of muggle technology. Had she told Draco's eleven year old self that he would eventually use and appreciate muggle technology, she might have been hexed and then admitted into St. Mungo's for psychiatric evaluation.

She heard the door in Alex and Blaise's office open and close, so she assumed Blaise had returned from wherever he was. Seconds later, the door to Draco's office opened, and she turned to face him, standing up. Draco was standing in the hallway still, surprise written all over his face for a second. A minute ticked by, and he suddenly seemed to remember where he was, his gray orbs hardening. He cleared his throat, shut the door, and walked around Hermione to sit at his desk. He motioned for Hermione to sit, and once she was settled, he broke the silence.

"What are you doing here?" he asked quietly, assessing her body language.

"Draco-" Hermione began, but was cut short by a derisive snort.

"So it's Draco now, is it? Excuse me if I've missed something in the last ten years, but I was under the impression that it was back to 'Malfoy,'" he stated dryly.

Hermione sighed. "I know, and I'm really terribly sorry that that's what we came to."

Draco narrowed his eyes at Hermione, and leaned back in his Slytherin green chair.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" he gritted out. "Oh, let me guess, _Weasley_ isn't here to keep you from 'fraternizing with the enemy.' Well, save your shit apologies, I've had enough Pureblood bat spleens to last me a lifetime. If you've got nothing else to say, Granger, then get out," he spat with a level of venom she hadn't heard since their Hogwarts years.

"No, Draco, that's not what I came here to talk about-"

"Well then spit it out! I haven't got all day, since I'm actually _working_ right now. Don't you have a job to go to?"

Hermione ignored the last question, and wrung her hands nervously. "I.. I came to talk about... about us," she said lamely, flinching as she saw Draco's stormy eyes.

"There is no 'us'," Draco said harshly. "There hasn't been an 'us' for near twelve years, you've made sure of that, running off to the Weasel as soon as your Gryffindork courage betrayed you."

"It's not like you fought for me!" Hermione cried indignantly. "You left me alone, so I wasn't going to choose the person who didn't think I was worth fighting for!"

"Worth fighting for? I fucking saved you and your parents' lives from those Death Eaters. Don't give me that shit!" he snarled. "What did you expect me to do? You chose him over me. I wasn't going to complicate things when you clearly loved him more. You'd be happier that way, so what does the great Gryffindor princess deem would have been the appropriate course of action?" he mocked.

"I never loved him after you. You could have stood at 'speak now,'" she cried.

"Oh, and what would that have bought me? Would you really have left him? With all of the Weasleys watching, expecting you to finally join their family? Would you really have done it? Left him at the altar and run away with me? Bloody likely," Draco sneered.

Hermione shuddered. Everything the blonde was saying was completely and utterly true. She had been a coward. She had been so tired of fighting; she hadn't wanted to face the consequences a life with Draco would bring.

"You're right," she whispered, swallowing the bitter medicine of being in the wrong. "I'm so sorry, I never should have-"

"Like I said earlier, stuff those apologies back into the hole they came from," Draco sighed, massaging his temples.

"What do you want?" he asked her. "I have a wife that I am devoted to, and she might yet survive this ordeal.

"I don't want romance - you're not available and I'm not ready," Hermione said quickly. "I just.. I just hoped that we could be friends again, just like old times. I miss you. Our debates, discussions, dreams... I can't survive without your presence in my life."

"Damn it Hermione, you can't do this to me!" Draco slammed his fist down onto his desk. She jumped at his violent reaction.

"Why? Why can't we just be friends?" Hermione asked tearfully.

"Merlin, 'Mione, I'm still bloody in love with you! I can't just be friends with you, I'll just fall in deeper, and I can't have that! You know it! It's always been all or nothing. I can't handle a small dosage," he sighed again, and banged his head on his desk.

"We could have been amazing, 'Mione," he whispered, so she leaned closer to hear him. "I was stupid to think it could work, though, it's never going to happen."

"Don't say that," Hermione protested.

He looked up at her. "You know, had I just been a schoolyard bully, people could have gotten over that. I'd just need to prove that I'd changed, and we could have worked. But there is no way," his voice growing more and more violent and increasingly agitated, "that we could have worked with this fucking mark!" he shouted, pulling up his left sleeve and displaying the mark. "This will always separate us. If there hadn't been a war, it could have worked. But Voldemort fucking happened, and we will never be able to live peacefully together. The faster you figure that out, the better."

Hermione had tears freely running down her cheeks. "It will never happen, will it?"

Draco shook his head mournfully. "It won't, not in this life." She nodded sadly.

She stood up, and he stood to escort her. As they faced each other, they allowed themselves one last moment. Tilting her chin up to him, he kissed her hard, desperately. They kissed and poured the eleven years' worth of emotion into that kiss, believing they would never get the chance again. When they broke apart for air, Hermione gently touched the side of his face.

"It has always been you. It will always be you," she murmured.

He kissed a few tears away. "Always and forever," he promised.

"Goodbye," she whispered, and after one last kiss, she was gone.

Draco managed to find his way back to his chair before he collapsed. His fingers went to his lips, and he sighed. As the tingling warmth faded away, a part of his soul shattered again, barely mended to begin with.

Draco Malfoy had never felt worse in his life.

* * *

Hermione fought the tears dripping down her face, swiping at them angrily.

She apparated back to the beach that held all of her memories.

Dårlig Wolf Bay.

"Ron, forgive me," she sobbed, falling down onto the sand. "Why does it hurt so much?" she asked the overcast sky. "Why?" she implored the sky for an answer, but it gave her none.

"I used to come here when my heart was broken, too," a voice said behind her. Hermione whirled around to face a blonde muggle woman.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked breathlessly, furiously scrubbing away the tears that had dried on her face.

"My name's Rose."

"I named my daughter Rose," Hermione said sadly.

"Did her father pass away?" Rose asked, presumably having hear Hermione shout Ron's name.

"He did..." Hermione replied simply, turning to look out to the bay.

"My father did, too." The blonde woman sat down, patting the sand next to her for Hermione to sit.

"I'm sorry to hear that..." Hermione trailed off. "I feel guilty... not missing her father as much as I should. I mean, it's not like it's not painful without him... he, Ron, that is, he was my best friend, and my heart aches for him, it truly does... but..."

"There was someone else," Rose finished for her. Hermione felt weird, confiding in a complete stranger. But she just felt that there was something about this woman. She could trust her.

"I know what you mean," Rose began, looking far out across the bay. "You loved him, Ron, but not much more than a brother or a best friend. He was... family." Hermione nodded.

"But there was someone, someone else that you just had this spark with. You went with him anyways, knowing he would break your heart without necessarily intending to. You knew that someday, you might be separated forever, when the time came. But he was just addicting. You loved having adventures with him, and it seemed like it would never stop. That you could just keep running, forever. But no one can run forever."

"And when you couldn't..." Hermione said quietly.

"And then you were left with a choice. Take the safe, familiar route, or take the never-ending road of heartbreak."

"I took the easy way out," Hermione murmured, wind blowing her hair into her face. The blonde turned to her.

"I didn't. And I come here every once in awhile to remember, to feel the pain again, and the joy, too. But I don't regret it. It hurts, but I know he's trying to get back to me, no matter how impossible it seems," Rose sighed, and stood up. She extended her arm and pulled Hermione up. Rose looked straight into Hermione's eyes.

"A word of advice, love. If you get the chance, fight for him. I've found that no matter the odds, eventually true love always conquers. No matter if you're worlds-" at this, Rose looked up at the sky, "-or universes apart. If you fight for him, you might just win. And you can't ever say that you didn't try."

Rose stepped closer, and whispered into Hermione's ear.

"My love came back, and yours will too. Fight and remember Bad Wolf Bay."

When Hermione turned to face her, the blonde woman, she had disappeared, but a faint song was dancing on the wind.

_One last kiss,_

_One moment of bliss._

_Salty and sweet,_

_Hopeless and beat._

_Why must I let go?_

_The answer, I know._

_We've come to an end,_

_Where we can't even be friends._

_But love, understand_

_With you, I'd hold hands._

_So this is goodbye,_

_Or another hello,_

_As winter is falling,_

_And the wind blowing snow._

* * *

Blaise entered the office, plopping down various folders onto his desk. He grinned at his wife, the success of the meeting fueling his good mood.

"Alex, the Italian company is on board! We start distributing the Adipose Potion next fall! I can't wait for the heart disease rates to fall!" he cheered.

Alex stood up from her desk, smiling. "Congratulations!"

Blaise hugged her, lifting her up and spinning her around. Alex giggled. "Blaise, you'll ruin our suits," she laughed.

"Who cares! This calls for celebration! Let's grab Draco for dinner tonight - we should go Italian, Venice maybe? Or Rome?"

"Oh, that's a toughie..." Alex paused, and thought a bit while she straightened her clothes out. "We should bring Ariel, too, she was the head of this potion. She needs a promotion, I'd say," Alex noted.

"Honey, she's the head of that cardiac department," Blaise laughed. "Short of making her-"

"When is Slughorn's nephew retiring?" Alex asked abruptly, going back to her desk and rifling through a few files. "Ahh, next quarter. She'll be the new potions head. She's got a flawless record, Blaise. No one can argue that it's just because we're friends. She's earned it," Alex said firmly.

"I agree," Blaise conceded. "I'll go ask Draco if he wants Rome or Venice tonight." Blaise made his way to the door connecting the two offices.

"Wait!" Alex exclaimed. "Hermione came earlier... she wanted to talk to Draco."

"After all this time? And now? After Ron's funeral and everything?" Blaise asked incredulously, his eyebrows skyward. "Granted it's been a few months, but..."

"I warned her Draco wouldn't take it well, but you know how she is," Alex sighed.

"Well why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Blaise exclaimed, grabbing an extendable ear from behind a few books on the bookshelf.

"Oh, no, Blaise, this is their private time," Alex scolded.

"They always did it to us, so I'd say that we need to get a female dog named Karma," Blaise said offhandedly.

"Oh... you!" Alex groaned. "I was not the evil mastermind if we get caught."

"Anything for you, love," Blaise grinned cheekily, sliding the ear under the door. Hermione was pleading for them to be friends again, and both Blaise and Alex jumped when Draco slammed his fist down on his desk. At the end of the conversation, Blaise and Alex hid the extendable ear.

"Those two are miserable without each other," Alex sighed.

"We need to get them together. The Italian Stallion has a match to make," Blaise smirked slyly.

"But what about Astoria?" Alex asked concernedly. "I mean, I know she'll be out of the picture if something goes wrong, Morgana... that sounded horrible."

Blaise's smirk slid off of his face.

"Tori... well, there's nothing more to do. If this last test doesn't work... well, we've tried our best. Hopefully we can get her to be conscious soon. But it's just spreading too quickly, and let's face it, she wants to be with Weasley, not Draco. Why deny either of them their true loves? Draco will need time to heal, yes, but so does Hermione. Why can't they heal together?" Blaise pointed out.

"Fair point. But we won't force them into anything before a month or, even better, three, after Astoria passes," Alex finalized.

"Makes sense," Blaise confirmed. "It's so sad that.. it's just so final. We have one more chance. She's not fighting much anymore... not that she ever really was..."

"I hate cancer," Alex said vehemently. "It's such an interestingly difficult disease, but its effects are just horrid. Blaise, we're going to find it. We're going to find the cure for cancer. Screw peritoneal seeding, screw organ takeover, we'll find a way to destroy the worst cancers out there," Alex said decisively.

"I'll be there every step of the way," Blaise said soothingly, wrapping his wife in a hug.

"I've never been a fan of Astoria, but she doesn't deserve this. No one does."

"Shh..." Blaise comforted her. "Dumbledore told Potter something, once. Do not pity the dead. Pity the living."

"She's alive," Alex pointed out.

"But she'll be at peace, with her love, sooner rather than later, if we can't help it."

Alex sighed, returning the hug. "i'm so glad I have you, Blaise. You're not allowed to leave me, okay? No cancer. No illness. No accidental death, you hear? That's an order."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Blaise chuckled, lightly pecking her lips. "Now, seriously. Venice or Rome?"

_A week later..._

"Blaise," Alex whispered quietly. "Blaise. Blaise!" she called, excitement growing with each time.

"You called?" he asked, appearing by her side. He looked over her shoulder at the piece of paper she held.

"This!" she waved it wildly in front of him, spinning around to face him. "This changes everything! We can save her. We might be able to save her!"

Blaise snatched it out of her hands and scanned the contents quickly. He looked up at Alex, who was slightly tearing up. He tried to speak, but even upon clearing his throat, his voice was still scratchy. "You double checked? The Healer reported it correctly? This data, these results, they've been scrutinized by our biostatisticians? This is the final, official report?" he asked cautiously.

Alex nodded, emphatically bouncing up and down on her feet. "This is real Blaise. Just in time for the beginning of December. This, this is my Christmas present. Look at the success rate - a _forty_ percent success rate - the cancer cells were gone. Of course, we don't know if we got all of them, but the tumor was gone. Completely. And the coma breaking, _sixty-five_ percent success rate. The repair to nerve cells? _Seventy-one_ percent. She'll be able to speak, Blaise. She won't be damaged forever!" Alex cried. "These stats, they're better than some of the most benign potions off the counter for fixing a quick cold. Blaise, we need to talk to Draco."

It was times like these when Blaise could just stare at his wife all day and night. Lab coat sleeves rolled up, hair escaping from a hastily put up ponytail. And it was times like these when he knew that he lived for this. For the smile, the uncontrollable bouncing up and down (fangirling at its finest), the sarcastic rants, the passion.

The passion that was there when nobody cared.

He hugged her tightly, squeezing her as she let out a surprised squeak. "Let's go find Draco," he smiled, grabbing her hand and pulling her to a meeting room down the hall. Blaise and Alex peered in the window, and seeing Draco standing up to shake hands, barged into the room as the conference concluded.

"Draco!" Alex exhaled breathlessly when they got Draco alone. "We can save her! It's ready!"

Draco's eyes narrowed one second, but then widened quickly, understanding.

"Astoria," he said. it wasn't a question. The Zabinis nodded. He grabbed both of their arms, apparating to St. Mungo's with his renewed silence.

Appearing in the lobby, the three dashed into the elevator, anxiously waiting to reach the fourth level - spell damage. They darted around corners, between mediwitches and mediwizards, dodging life support systems and floating trays of food. When they burst into Astoria's room, they were thoroughly unprepared for the sight before them.

"What right do you have to be here?" Daphne was screaming while Healer Davies was trying to calm her down. "Get off of me!" Daphne growled, her normal sophisticated aura replaced with raw emotion.

"Get the fuck out," Theo growled.

"Mr. and Mrs. Nott, please, Astoria can hear you!" Healer Davies was trying to desperately salvage her patient's room before someone destroyed something, or someone.

"No! He has no right to be here! He should be in fucking Azkaban!" Daphne shouted again. Alex, Blaise, and Draco tensed. Whoever was beyond Daphne and Theo's bodies, who were currently blocking the way, shouldn't have been anywhere near the room.

"Why aren't you Azkaban? Why aren't the dementors sucking out your deranged, demented soul out of your wretched body?" Daphne cried hysterically.

A cold, stony, but familiar voice answered with a bored detachment. "Amazing, isn't it, Mrs. Nott, how quickly a five year sentence with a ten year exile comes to pass?"

Draco froze, all noise blending together into a slow molasses of sound. He didn't hear anymore of Daphne's distress or Theo's rage. The only thing Draco heard was the man's voice. That voice. When Daphne and Theo moved away, the sight confirmed his very worst fears.

"Oh, Draco. How kind of you to come visit," the man spat. Draco ignored the bait, knowing that he never wanted to and never regretted not visiting the man in Azkaban, or in Madagascar.

"I'm surprised at how well you've done for yourself. Malfoy Enterprises is running with the highest ratings in family history, you're a head of a new highly successful biomedical company - that came as an interesting development. Money made by helping people? I must say, I never expected that," the man chuckled. "You followed the Malfoy legacy well: married properly, had a Slytherin son, succeeded in business, manipulated yourself into the very best of wizarding society. Oh, Draco, well done," the man clapped slowly. "What? No greeting?" he asked maliciously, eyes glittering dangerously.

"Father," Draco spat harshly. "I can't say it's a pleasure to have you back."

"Oh, Draco, Draco," Lucius Malfoy tsked, shaking his head slowly. "Haven't I taught you anything, boy? No? You may be Draco Malfoy, the redeemed one, the poor child abused by his nasty, prejudiced father. But _I_ am Lucius Malfoy, and I _always_ come back."

Alex and Blaise looked on helplessly as Draco Lucius Malfoy's world shattered before their eyes.

* * *

"Auror Potter," Terry Boot greeted.

"For the last time, Terry, it's just Harry, all right? We went to school together! I think it's only right you call me by my given name," Harry laughed.

"So I've been following up on the Flint case, as always, but this time, I think Anthony and I have just figured something critical out," Terry continued, ignoring Harry's protest. "Five years ago, when Flint had an accident in the Department of Mysteries, he had the accident in the only room with the newly created time turners. Flint, although suspected of association with Death Eaters before, never left any evidence of having been a part of them, which is why he wasn't in Azkaban. However, someone who we know was indeed associated with the Death Eaters was in the room next to Flint."

"Who?" Harry asked, scribbling notes on a spare scrap of parchment.

"Vaila Seris. She got off of an Azkaban sentence, because, well, she didn't _do_ anything."

"Or she covered it up really well," Harry noted.

"Right. She's a possibility."

"It's very circumstantial, though. Not enough to get a Wizengamot-"

"-search warrant. Yes, Harry, I know. But we have that possibility."

"Well? What about recently released Death Eaters? It might make sense that those leaving Azkaban that day could have somehow broke Flint out, too."

"We drew up a list of recent Death Eater or former Death Eater activity," Terry said, pulling out a packet and handing it to Harry. Harry quickly scanned the pages, stopping suddenly.

"The very same day Flint broke out, Lucius _Malfoy_ returned to England?" Harry burst out. "Why is he returning? He should have had a life sentence! Fifty years minimum!"

"Sold out a lot of his old 'buddies,'" Terry snorted. "Bloody good attorney, too. Five years sentence in Azkaban, Harry, with a ten year exile to Madagascar."

"Why hasn't this been splattered all over the _Prophet_?"

"He didn't actually get released into British society until..." Terry trailed off.

Harry looked at him.

"Today."

Harry stared. "Where will he be staying? Who can we trust? Can we get anyone to watch him?"

"Well-" Terry said.

* * *

Draco immediately apparated to the Manor, seeking out his mother.

"Mother?" he roared into the residential wing.

"In my quarters, Draco!" she called. He stomped into her room, throwing the door open.

"You bellowed?" Narcissa asked calmly as she did up her hair at her vanity, tilting her head from the left to the right to assess her handiwork.

"Father's back in Britain."

Narcissa dropped the elaborate hair clip she was holding, whirling around to face him. "It's... it's been fifteen years, hasn't it?" she choked out shakily.

Draco nodded solemnly.

She stood up quickly, skirts bustling, and called all of the house elves.

"Floppy, please go see to Lucius's quarters and dust everything! Everything must be as it was. Hortesse, could you-"

"Hold up!" Draco shouted, shocked. "You're not serious? You're not going to welcome him back to the Manor?"

"Draco," Narcissa said impatiently as Hortesse waited for her orders. "He is your father. The Estate is rightfully his, as Head of the Malfoy Family-"

"No, Mother. That title passed onto me when he went to Azkaban and I came of age!" Draco protested, feeling all of the control in his life slowly slip between his fingertips.

"But he's back now, Draco. I don't know the exact legal proceedings, but I know your father well enough to assume that he found a way to maintain a hold on his power!"

"I can't believe it! Everything I worked for! Everything these last fifteen years, all of it can and _will _be destroyed by his ruthless greed for power! Scorpius and I are moving out. I won't stand to live with that selfish, prejudiced-"

"I thought that I had taught you some basic rules of respect. Clearly, the lesson hasn't been learned," Lucius Malfoy drawled from behind Draco. In the next instant, Draco's hawthorn wand was pointed right between Lucius's eyes.

"Narcissa dear. You have let our child grow wild. Running off to America like the weakling he always was," Lucius sneered, unruffled by the threat of Draco's wand.

"Get. Out." Draco growled.

"I don't think I will," Lucius replied calmly.

"GET THE FUCK OUT! I don't want you in my life! I was better off without you! I did well for myself, without having to commit crimes or sell my principles-!"

"Malfoys, my boy, don't have principles," Lucius interrupted.

"Get the fuck out, and don't come back!" Draco roared.

"Ah, see, Draco, about that. Technically, although you were named Head of the Malfoy Family when I was in Azkaban, I paid a good amount of money to guarantee that your first legitimate heir would receive the title, but that would be postponed until he came of age. Until that point, whichever eldest Malfoy by blood not incarcerated in prison, exiled, or dead would act as head. Now, if the _Prophet_ was accurate, you have a legitimate heir, named Scorpius, no?"

Draco didn't respond.

"So until today, you 'acted' as the Head. Today, I now 'act' as Head. Therefore, I own every bit of business, property, and family that you have ever been involved in. And I have every right to this estate, and even the clothes on your back," Lucius sneered.

Narcissa gave Draco a look that clearly meant 'I told you so.'"

"Well, Draco, I look forward to discussing my ownership of Medrex in the next few days. And don't think I won't demand my rights to meet this... promising young heir of yours."

Draco said nothing, fuming as he apparated silently back to St. Mungo's.

"Narcissa, you have been too soft with him. All he has ever done is run," Lucius said haughtily. "Now, I presume my quarters are ready?"

She nodded numbly, already calculating how she could restore Draco's control. It wouldn't be easy, but Narcissa Malfoy would defend her son from any threat - even if that threat was Lucius Malfoy.

* * *

"-Narcissa Malfoy will probably agree to let Lucius back into the Manor. Draco, I don't know what position he'll be in," Terry said.

Harry nodded. "All right. We'll need someone close to the family to watch Lucius. Do we think we can ask Narcissa or Draco?"

"Narcissa and Draco are both wildcards. I have no idea how they'll react. Better not."

"Alex and Blaise?" Harry asked after a while. "Daphne and Theo? Hell, Pansy Flint?" Terry began writing names down. "Goyle and Millicent? Adrian and Natasha?"

"All plausible. What about that Strickland bloke? From America?"

"Henry and Miranda? Possibly. I don't know how much interaction they have with the Malfoys, though."

"We should get moving, the Malfoy Christmas Ball could be the perfect opportunity to start investigating, or get our spies to reenter the Malfoys' lives to 'catch up'." Terry pointed out.

"Valid point. There's also the Ministry Ball," Harry suggested.

"I don't think, however, that Minister Shacklebolt will have Draco Malfoy's parents on the invited list."

"He might have Narcissa come plan it, as she usually has in the last few years. If she plans, then we can expect her to bring Lucius."

"True," Terry conceded.

"What about Tracey? Anthony's wife?"

"Actually, that's brilliant, Auror Potter."

"It's Harry, I keep telling you-"

"She was a Slytherin - they'll be at both events. Goldstein's in on this, that would be perfect. Fantastic idea."

"The trick is getting her closer to the Malfoys."

"I don't know what you're worried about! She's a Slytherin, she'll manage," Terry laughed.

"You forget that the Malfoys are a whole family of Slytherins. The Malfoys are as Slytherin as they come," Harry warned.

* * *

"Draco!" Alex shouted as soon as he appeared in St. Mungo's. "We've done it! Astoria's conscious!"

Draco was still in a horrid mood because of his father's arrival. "How did you get it done? I didn't fucking sign anything," Draco snarled.

"Well, Draco, that's pleasant to hear as the first words I can respond to, after, of course, my three-month coma," Astoria said haughtily from the hospital bed with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Good afternoon," Draco said evenly, turning to face his wife. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, considering the fact that I am paralyzed from the waist down, have a brain tumor that even the Zabinis can't get rid of, and was starved for the last three months, I am doing... fine. As well as can be expected."

Draco nodded. "Well?" he demanded of Alex and Blaise. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to sue you."

"Draco," Blaise rolled his eyes. "You signed off forms last month when Paige, Tash, and Bill stopped by. In the contract, Alex and I were included."

Draco merely nodded, collapsing into one of the chairs at Astoria's bedside. "I'm glad you're back," he said softly.

She snorted in a very non-pureblood wife manner. "Draco, I have a brain tumor. That's metastasized. I am a dying woman. It's a matter..." she gulped. "It's a matter of weeks. I had days, but Blaise and Alex pushed it back a bit longer. I'll be gone... gone within weeks," she said sadly, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Draco buried his face in his hands. "Why is everything falling apart?" he sobbed. "Fucking Marcus Flint breaks out of Azkaban. Fucking Lucius Malfoy comes back into my life with the intent of destroying my career, Medrex, and our child! Fucking brain tumor! Merlin damn it!" he shouted.

"Your father won't lay a finger on Medrex," Alex assured him. "We've got loads of lawyer friends to find a loophole. And even if that fails, you're the CEO - technically you don't actually own the company. You just own your shares. That's only a sixth of the company..."

"Only," Astoria sorted. "We get it Draco. Life sucks. But at least you have time to heal," she growled.

"Tori..." Blaise said sadly, taking her hand in his. "No matter what happens, you won't be doing anything alone."

"Blaise is right, Astoria," Alex affirmed. "Did you want me to bring back Daphne and Theo? Go find Scorpius? Hell, even your parents? We will be here, with you, until the very end."

Astoria regarded Alex, who had been the subject of countless arguments between the Malfoys. Astoria had always thought of Alex as a threat to Astoria, be it in motherhood, or even in basic trust issues with Draco. And here Alex was, forgetting all of the bad blood between them. Astoria knew she was genuinely trying to help: Astoria had been around plenty of Slytherins throughout her life to know how to differentiate between the fake ones and real ones.

"I want everyone you mentioned, besides my parents. But before you get them, I want you to bring Hermione Weasley. Now, if you could." Astoria said decisively, not missing Draco's flinch at 'Weasley' and his incredulous expression.

"Why do you want Granger?" Draco demanded.

"It's Weasley, and it's been that way for years!" Astoria shrieked. As Alex flooed to Hermione's office, she could hear Healer Davies rushing back into the room to try to calm Astoria down.

"Alex?" Hermione looked up, confused as Alex brushed the dirt off of her white lab coat.

"Hermione... we did it. Astoria's awake."

"Oh, that's lovely to hear!" Hermione said excitedly, though it was slightly forced. "How did you do it?"

"We actually got the idea from Albus Potter, believe it or not. The reason why the coma reawakening spells already tried didn't wake was that the spells didn't address the cause of the coma. Previous spells were just too general - the magic was trying to do too much without the proper support. So what we did is a combination of several smaller spells. Ultimately, Flint wanted Astoria to feel pain, so it attacked the nervous system. Unfortunately, unlike the Cruciatus Curse, Flint's wordless spell sent the magic spiralling out of control. When all of the nerves fired, augmented by the magical energy, Astoria's brain couldn't handle all of the electrical signals, and her nerves literally burned out. Nerve cells are the only cells that really just don't replicate, so we had to basically grow new nerve cells from her stem cells. Luckily, with magic, it didn't take that long, really speeding up the process."

"But...?" Hermione asked, sensing Alex's uneasiness.

"But it took us too long to figure this out. Marcus Flint wanted her to feel never-ending pain, so the magic didn't leave her body after the initial destruction. He wanted the pain to spread, too. Combine bad energy, almost like a radiation, with spreading? You get cancer," Alex said sorrowfully.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione gasped, horrified. "Hold on, how did she survive at all if her nerves were destroyed? Her heart wouldn't have been able to function..."

'It wasn't actually the nerves in her body that burnt out. It was a section in the brainstem where all of the nerves meet to bridge to the brain," Alex clarified. "The bridge burnt down, and we've only been able to restore function to her upper body. Although, physically, her lower body's fine, besides a bit of muscular atrophy. Other than that, she would have recovered from it if..."

"If?" Hermione prodded gently.

Alex inhaled sharply. "If she didn't have a giant tumor that destroyed that section of the brainstem and actual brain."

"Oh no," Hermione moaned. "I can't even begin to... Oh my goodness."

"She's asking for you," Alex murmured solemnly.

"Me? Why? She doesn't want to breathe on the same planet as me, much less see me!" Hermione protested.

"She's dying Hermione. I think she wants to... I don't know, resolve her issues? She needs closure, and though I'm by no means her biggest fan, she deserves at the very minimum exactly that: closure. You have no right to deny her that," Alex stated sternly. Hermione nodded her head, agreeing.

"I'll come," she said simply.

Hermione followed Alex into the Floo, brushing off ash as she stepped into Astoria's hospital room. She flinched as she laid eyes on Draco, who was broodily staring out the window, chest heaving as if he had just finished a shouting match. He didn't turn around to acknowledge her presence, leaving Hermione both relieved and a little hurt. Alas, she wasn't here for Draco. Her eyes shifted to the regal women in bed - Astoria Malfoy.

Alex and Blaise dragged Draco towards the door, who ignored Hermione the whole way. The Silver Triple gone, Astoria and Hermione were the only ones left in the room. They stared at each other, and Hermione suddenly felt self-conscious. Was her hair a mess? Had she gotten off all of the Floo ash?

"Hermione, please, sit down," Astoria said quietly. Hermione sat down slowly in the chair Blaise had vacated.

"I'm truly, terribly sorry," Hermione began, unsure as to where to start.

"Me too," Astoria said softly, and Hermione got the sense that she wasn't just talking about her impending death.

"Scorpius was sorted into Slytherin," Hermione said awkwardly. "Araluen, too. Rose, however, is a Gryffindor."

"I know," Astoria replied. Hermione was at a loss of what to say. "Do you know why I asked to see you?" Astoria asked after a few moment's silence.

"No, frankly, I don't," Hermione answered honestly. "Alex mentioned you might be seeking... closure."

"And as usual, she's spot on," Astoria sighed irritably. "Look, I'm dying, and I haven't been straightforward with you."

"I think you expressed your dislike of me quite clearly," Hermione stated. It was a fact.

"But haven't you ever wondered why?"

"I was under the impression that my previous... relationship with Draco seemed... to unsettle you."

Astoria snorted derisively. "I don't give a rat's arse about you as a 'threat' to my marriage that was already loveless. Don't be so arrogant to think that," Astoria nearly snarled. "No, you want to know the real reason why I hate you? You're a bloody Gryffindor, and you took the coward's way out, destroying others in the process! You and Potter constantly preach about sacrificing your own safety for the greater good, and you're the most hypocritical bitch I've ever met!"

Hermione stood up. "I didn't come here to be screamed at."

"Sit the fuck down. You haven't hear bloody shite yet," Astoria demanded. Hermione uneasily sat.

"You loved Draco. You still do- don't deny it, I saw the way you look at him. The way you flinch when he walks past you without a glance. All of the signs of a broken heart. And _you_, you brought that upon yourself. You realize that, right? Instead of sticking with him and dealing with whatever would come, you _ran away_. Don't look so affronted, you know you did. You ran back to Ron, the safe back-up, despite the fact that you had found your true love in Draco. Did it ever occur to you, once, how much you would destroy him? How much you would destroy someone who actually, genuinely loved Ron?" Astoria nearly shouted, tears springing to her eyes. Hermione froze.

"That's right, Granger, I was bloody in love with Ronald Bilius Weasley when you heartlessly took him from me. If you really had loved him, I would have been able to cope with that. Even if he didn't end up with me, I could count on someone truly cherishing him. But NO!" Astoria sobbed now, tears freely rolling down her face.

"It's not like Draco did anything! I was tired of fighting for myself, and-"

"Draco _loved_ you, hasn't that made it into that abnormally large brain of yours? He let you go, because he hoped that you would at least be happy. But you weren't! You made yourself and three other people bloody miserable!"

Hermione dropped her face down to look at her hands. "You're right. You're very, very right. And I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Astoria's anger suddenly fizzled out, staring at Hermione's hunched form. Here was a woman who made the wrong choice. Here was a woman who was human, who wasn't perfect. And she never pretended to be perfect. And Astoria could forgive that.

Astoria gripped one of Hermione's hands gently. "Hermione, even though you made the wrong decision once... I forgive you. You're only human."

Hermione looked up slowly to Astoria, and then back again to their entwined hands. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Don't think I'm doing it for you, I'm not a bloody Hufflepuff. Like Alex said... I need closure. And I'll only be able to find it if I forgive you."

"I understand."

There was a long pause. And then, Hermione, ever the curious, asked a question.

"How did you fall in love?" It was almost a whisper, asked so delicately that Astoria barely caught it.

Astoria chuckled, leaning back into the pillows. Her eyes glazed over with a faraway look, remembering a distant moment. She breathed in slowly, exhaling lightly.

"After I finished Hogwarts, I didn't know what to do with myself. My mother wanted to marry me off quickly, but the war had ruined the marriage pool. If we wanted to stay pureblooded, well, there were very few pureblooded families that hadn't ended up on the wrong side of the war. Many had lost considerable amounts of money, too, since they had to pay their way to stay neutral. So I managed to convince my mother to leave me alone for a time, but that meant I needed a job. I'm not like you, Hermione. I had no clear vision, no drive to contribute. I landed a simple secretary job at the Ministry, in the Auror Department. I didn't have any interaction with Ron in the beginning. As you know, he was partnering with George in their joke shop for a while. But when you left, that's when he enlisted with the Aurors. I never really noticed him - I was just a desk job. But one time, I had had a really bad day. It was the day Daphne told our parents about her engagement to Theodore Nott. Mum flipped. His father was a Death Eater already stuck in Azkaban, and they were rather poor by our standards because they spent so much of their resources on the war. When mum found out, she took it out on everyone. So you can imagine, when Ron grabbed me a coffee that morning and demonstrated George's latest product, what a world of difference it made."

Hermione smiled nostalgically. That was Ron, brightening people's days in the worst of times.

"It just fell into place after that. We went out to coffee together a few times, but by the Ministry Christmas Ball, I was already in deep. Seeing as you weren't here, he asked me to be his date - as friends, of course. I wore the most beautiful peacock themed dress that night. It was my fairytale come true. We never did anything, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't," Hermione informed her. "Not that it's any of my business, either."

"But weren't you engaged at that point?" Astoria looked at Hermione confused.

"For all intents and purposes, I cheated on him by falling in love with Draco. Plus, we weren't actually engaged. I had left for Australia after a huge row, where we had both broken it off. We took our rings off that night," Hermione said sadly.

"He always wore his ring," Astoria mumbled.

Hermione glanced at her, surprised, but Astoria was staring out the window miserably.

"Love sucks," Hermione said softly.

"It does indeed," Astoria replied. Hermione snorted, and Astoria gave her a questioning look.

"I was just remembering my childhood idea of love." Astoria's eyes looked at Hermione, interested, so she continued.

"My parents' names are Patricia and Matthew, but they go by 'Pat' and 'Matt.' Somewhere along the way, I got it into my head that my Prince Charming would have a name that rhymed with mine. Imagine my dismay when I went to school and no one came remotely close to Hermione." Astoria gave her a rare smile.

"My mum found me crying in a corner one day, and upon finding the reason behind my tears, laughed a little and explained to me that love could arrive in any form. She told me it would be someone who made me secure, and happy. I thought I had found that with Ron."

"And then, you found the spark with Draco," Astoria finished. Hermione nodded.

"It scared me. Instead of feeling secure, I was constantly on my toes, unable to predict anything next. It was exhilarating, but it kept me on edge. I didn't know if I could handle it, and all of the public repercussions. So I ran away. And I ruined your love at the same time-"

"Hermione, that's the past. Forget it."

"But-"

"If you want to make it up to me, promise me this."

"Anything," Hermione agreed breathlessly.

"When I'm gone, I want you to fight for Draco. Show him that you'll never run away again, that he'll never have to give you up. Take my place and be a mother to Scorpius. Treat him like you treat Rose and Hugo. But above all, love Draco. He deserves it, and you do, too."

"I will," Hermione promised. "And take care of Ron."

"Always," Astoria affirmed.

**AN: Hello all! Well, it was spring break, and though I had the chapter done two Saturdays ago, I wasn't able to post it up until now, so I'm sorry for the delay. This was a long chapter, I wanted to speed things up a bit and get crackin'. A lot of explanations and feels here. BTW: HUGE Doctor Who reference in there. Hope you got it, otherwise, YOU ARE NO WHOVIAN. I tried something new with this chapter - switching back and forth between what was going on in the Auror Department and Malfoy Manor, to give it a sense of simultaneity. (Is that a word? Google docs spelling isn't marking it wrong, so I hope it is). How did you guys like it? Annoying? Or well placed? Here's Astoria's dress, by the way, from the Ministry Ball so long ago: w ww. new york dress Ma c_Duggal/ 42 83 4H .ht ml**** without the spaces, of course. Shout out to Maita, and Singapore! I apologize in advance for the lack of updates in the next three-four weeks. SAT/AP Testing is coming up, so I won't be updating. Hope this chapter sustains you. Thoughts? Complaints? Compliments? REVIEW. How did you like the switch-back-and-forth-aroo?**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

_Perfecting her own, personalized, mask..._

"SCORP!" Ara called from one end of the hallway. He looked away from his conversation with Jayce, smiling inwardly as she dodged a group of fourth years and seventh years to hurry towards him.

"Hey Ara," Jayce greeted, and she nodded back.

"Jayce, sorry, but we can't talk now," she said hurriedly, grabbing Scorpius's arm and dashing in a completely different direction.

"Ara! What the-"

"Your mom's awake, Scorp. McGonagall told me to find you so we can go visit her."

"She's awake? But how?!" Scorp panted in between breaths as they sprinted to the Headmistress's office.

"Mom and Dad fixed her, I guess. We'll see. Come on!" she cried impatiently as Scorpius's pace dropped slightly.

"Fred Weasley!" Ara shouted as they approached the Gryffin statues. Once opened, Ara and Scorp tumbled up the stairs and into McGonagall's office, where Ara's mother was waiting.

"Aunt Alex, how's my mother-?" Scorpius began to ask, but Alex just gave him a small smile.

"You'll see," she said simply, directing the two first years towards the Floo. McGonagall waved goodbye as they swirled into the fireplace at St. Mungo's. Stepping out of the Floo, Scorp was surprised to see his mother talking to... Hermione Weasley? Rose's mum?

"Thank you, Alex," Scorp's mum smiled as she beckoned Scorpius to her side.

"I should be going. I have some paperwork to fill out before I go out with Chloe for some texting and scones-"

Alex giggled at Hermione.

"Oh, no, it's not like- ugh. Whatever Alex. Bye Astoria, I'll visit again tomorrow," Hermione waved before shouting her destination.

"She... you... but...?" Scorpius asked incoherently.

"We'll be outside," Alex informed Astoria, who nodded.

"Come, sit, Scorp," Astoria patted the side of her bed.

"I thought you and... Mrs. Weasley didn't get along..." Scorpius stated, looking confused at the fireplace.

"We didn't," Astoria affirmed. "But just now, we had a long talk and solved some of our issues."

"That's... good..." Scorpius said carefully. "I hope that means you don't mind my being... friends I guess with Weasley."

"Rose?" Astoria asked her son.

"Yup," he replied, popping the p.

"Tell me what I've missed out in the last few months."

"Well, on the train, Ara dragged me into the same booth as Weasley, the Potter boys, that Wood bloke, some Gold... someone, I think he was a Ravenclaw, and Lorcan and Lysander Scamander."

"Rolf and Luna's sons?"

"Yeah. So we all struck up a tentative friendship there. During the main feast, we received the news about Weasley's Dad's and your coma. Oh, by the way, I also got sorted into Slytherin. Ara, too. Weasley's a Gryffindor, go figure, and Potter's actually a Hufflepuff. A lot of the Ravenclaw folks were really angry that Ara wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw, but Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter has been keeping a close eye on her. Emelda's a Slytherin... I don't know if you care about anyone else."

"Not really. Go on."

"Anyways, after that, got my timetable, and I've got classes with at least one of us four-"

"You are one of the four, I take it?"

"What of- oh. Yeah, I mean of the other three. I've become pretty good friends with Jayce Boot, too. Anyways, we have this really cool DADA teacher - Professor Pucey. She's so bad posterior. She broke us up into skill groups, so Ara, Potter, Weasley, and I have gotten way ahead of everyone else. Halloween was awesome - oh, wait, I skipped something. We went to Mr. Weasley's funeral before that. But after Halloween and the first Quidditch match, which, obviously, Slytherin won, surprisingly with relatively few fouls. We learned how to cast our patronus. You should've seen McLaggen's. It was a swarm of planaria," Scorp snickered.

Astoria looked at her son closely. "Have you managed a corporeal patronus?" Astoria asked breathlessly.

"Yeah, mum. Watch. Exp- Oh I'm not supposed to do magic outside of Hogwarts yet, am I?"

"Go get your father, or Blaise. They know an old pureblood shield that prevents the Ministry from detecting it."

"Okay!" Scorpius said cheerfully, jumping off the bed to find his father. The two Malfoy men reentered the room. "Mum wanted you to cast up a shield so I can show her my patronus," Scorp explained.

Draco stopped in his tracks. "Your patronus?" he asked incredulously. Scorpius nodded exuberantly.

"Mine is really cool, though Weasley's tigress is... decent," Scorpius grumbled a bit. "Ara's dolphin fits pretty well, and I think Potter's koala is actually a perfect fit. Dad, would you do it already?"

Draco pulled out his wand. "Tectios Magus," he whispered around the room. "All right, Scorp."

"Expecto patronum!" Scorp shouted, and his silvery falcon began gliding around the room.

"That's beautiful, Scorpius," Astoria breathed. "Beautiful."

"I'm very proud of you, son," Draco said after getting over his initial shock. "Patronuses are not first year work. I'm surprised your DADA teacher is teaching it to you."

"It's because of Flint. They've sent out dementors, so she thought it'd be useful," Scorpius shrugged.

"Makes sense," Draco said affectionately, patting Scorp's head.

"Yeah. So DADA is really cool. Flying's easy, and actually McGonagall's not that strict as a Headmistress. Caymen and Lysander get away with all sorts of stuff, but she doesn't punish them really so long as it's harmless."

"She's really changed, hasn't she?" Astoria smiled nostalgically.

"I guess so. Oh, and you'll be happy to know that no one judges me too badly. McLaggen's said a few insulting things here and there, but I haven't been exactly... kind to him."

"Scorp," Draco admonished.

"What? He's really dumb, and aggravatingly so."

"And yet, he managed a corporeal patronus?" Astoria inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Well yeah but-"

"Don't be so quick to judge others, son," Draco warned.

"Your father is an idiot," a voice sneered from the doorway. "A bloody fool. All of the lessons I taught him - throws it all out the window! Well, perhaps you'll be more malleable," Lucius Malfoy sneered as he entered the room.

"Is... is that?" Scorp trailed off, whispering to Draco.

"I'm afraid it is, son. Meet your Grandfather," Draco grimly introduced, clenching his jaw in suppressed anger.

"Mr. Malfoy, I must say, you have perfect timing," Astoria said dryly. "It was perfect, waking up to your livid son. All because some imbecile decided to reenter his life."

"I would watch your tongue, Ms. Greengrass," Lucius snapped. "Draco, Draco, Draco, you chose this woman to bear the Malfoy heir. Another failure. Another disappointment. I'm sure a Crucio would only quicken your pain and death. "

"I'm a dead woman, so I don't have anything to lose," Astoria shot back.

"Your son. Your sister. Pain," Lucius ticked each off with a finger. "Your dignity. My dear, you have plenty to lose," he snarled.

"You're... you're dying... still?" Scorpius whispered.

"How unfortunate," Lucius grinned maliciously. "Mummy didn't mention that she'll be dead in a few weeks?" Lucius jeered.

"Out!" Draco demanded.

"I have every right to be here," Lucius spat.

"Malfoys don't play by the rules," Draco reminded his father, before silencing him and blasting the eldest Malfoy out of the room with a flick of the wrist. Alex, Blaise, and Ara rushed in quickly before the door slammed shut.

"Mother, tell... tell me you aren't dying," Scorpius pleaded.

Astoria gripped his hand. "I'm sorry Scorpius, but no one can fix me."

"No!" Scorpius's cry of anguish tore at everyone's hearts. He pulled his hand away from her grasp, backing away as if she were a dangerous animal. Draco made a step to approach him, but thought better of it as Scorpius's lip began to tremble.

"You said!" Scorpius shouted, rounding on his godparents. "You said you'd take care of her!"

"They did, Scorp," Astoria interrupted.

"FIX HER!" he ordered.

"We tried, Scorp. We did our best, and she's awake now," Alex said soothingly. "We were too slow, though. And I'm sorry, but there's nothing more we can do."

"Scorpius, look at me," Astoria said softly. He furiously shook his head, fighting back tears. "Scorpius," she said sternly, and he finally met her eyes.

"Stay with me? Will you stay with me for the time we have left together?" she asked, and slowly nodded, walking back to her bedside.

"Why couldn't we have gotten along before?" he asked sadly, sniffling.

"Well, we have similar personalities, especially in our stubbornness. We always butt heads," Astoria chuckled.

She grew more serious. "Scorpius, I know we never say it because we constantly fight, but Mummy loves you, you know?"

Scorpius nodded. "I love you too, Mum. Even when we scream at each other. I'm going to miss you!" he cried, openly sobbing.

Not a single eye in that room was dry.

* * *

"I don't get it," Harper said confusedly to Albus.

"Get what?" Albus asked, not bothering look up from his Transfiguration essay.

"Why you hang out with Malfoy. I mean, your parents are practically archenemies!"

"Well they are not, Albus said distractedly, shaking his hand out as it cramped.

"But he's really mean," Harper shook his head.

"Snarky, yeah but he never really says stuff that bad," Albus pointed out. "Sure he's an arrogant prat, but beyond that he's not downright cruel."

"He is to Horatio," Harper pointed out

"I guess you're right about that," Albus conceded after a moment. "He's not exactly pleasant to anyone besides Ara."

"So why bother spending your time with him?"

"Well, for one, Rose needs an ally. She doesn't get on very well with Clara and Amelia, so she prefers to banter with Scorp and hang out with Ara. Plus, he's gotten better, by hanging out around Rose and Ara, I guess. We kind of talked it over – our goal is to get him to be a generally well-liked bloke by the end of the school year."

"What on Earth gave you guys that idea?" Harper asked incredulously.

Albus grimaced. "Who do you think? The second years – including my brother. They like to gamble."

"I should've guessed that James would be behind this," Harper snorted.

"Sometimes I wonder why he wasn't sorted into Slytherin," Albus sighed, turning back to crack open his Herbology textbook.

"Well, if he's a gambler, he's got to be courageous enough to take risks?"

"Hmm. I think you're right Harper," Albus smiled. "Did you manage your patronus yet?"

"Nah. I don't know how you four did, and even Horatio. He was a big surprise," Harper answered.

"My dad's kind of prepped me for it, so it's not that new, I guess. Ara and Scorp have never confirmed it, but I get the feeling they've at least tried it before. Rose is Aunt Hermione's daughter – enough said. As for Horatio – I guess we just underestimated him."

"No kidding," laughed Harper.

"Ooh, I gotta run. James wanted to meet me right about now, and I don't know why. I'll be back before dinner, probably."

"See you Al" Harper waved as Albus hurried from the Hufflepuff common room and to the Room of Requirement, which had repaired itself after Crabbe's Fiendfyre. Entering the room, he was greeted by all of the second year boys he had met on the train, plus a few girls that he didn't know.

"Hey Albus!" Zachariah greeted cheerfully.

"Glad you got the message, bro," James said as he twiddled with some odd object. "I couldn't get ahold of Rose, and Ara and Scorp are gone, from what I heard."

"Gone?" Albus asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "Gone where?"

"Dunno, that Nott girl just said they went to McGonagall's/"

"D'ya want to hae me go find Rose?" Alden asked. "Why don't we jus' use the Marauder's Map? Whoever has it…?"

"Ooh, let me!" one of the girls said excitedly, bouncing her freakishly curly hair. "Accio Marauder's Map!" she called. In a few moments, the map zoomed into her hands.

"Nicely done, Melody," Zach cheered – sorry, Zachariah.

"Wait – you're not Melody Jordan are you?" Albus asked in awe.

"The one and only," she flashed a brilliant smile from behind her curls.

"Lee and Coach Jordan's daughter? Daaang," Albus whistled. "Your mum makes fantastic brooms. So does Jackson Finch-Fletchley's mum."

"Thanks," she giggled. "I guess you haven't met my friend yet. This is Leonora, Camille, and Hollyn. You know Lucy and Roxanne, of course, since you're all cousins." Each girl waved in turn as Melody handed the map to Alden so he could find Rose.

"So, why are we here again?" Lysander asked boredly.

"We need to plan something big for Christmas," James announced impressively. "Doesn't have to be a prank –" he added, glancing at Leonora's disapproving look, but was then promptly cut off by Lorcan's snort.

"Of course there's got to be a prank. It wouldn't be worth doing otherwise," Lorcan protested.

"Exactly," Lysander confirmed.

"Anyways, it needs to be big, but not be… extensively harmful to anyone," James continued.

"Depends on your definition of extensive," Caymen snickered.

"So. Any thoughts?" James asked, pulling out a piece of parchment and the funny item he was fiddling with to write down ideas, it seemed.

"Ice skating rink. Turn a whole bloody hall into one. And make it so that random people have the ice crack underneath them and fall into icy water," Lorcan stated easily.

"Enchant the mistletoe to hook up certain people?" Hollyn suggested.

"Ooh, what about those creepy snowmen from Doctor Who?" Melody asked.

Just then, Rose and Alden burst into the room, Rose panting. "Albus!" she cried. "Scorp, he needs us!"

Albus got up to his feet, following Rose as they dashed out of the room and towards the dungeons, into the snakes' lair.

When they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room entrance, Rose groaned.

"Ara was helping Scorp and forgot to tell me the password. Shoot," Rose grumbled. "I guess we wait till someone comes out."

Probably, or we might be able to guess," Albus suggested. Rose shrugged.

"It'll pass the time. Pureblood," she directed at the blank wall. Nothing.

"Ambition?" Albus tried. "Self-preservation? Number one? My father will hear about this? Pride? Winning?"

Rose giggled even though the wall didn't budge. "Apples... Drapple! Green apples?" she giggled. Albus grinned.

"Scorpius has an affinity for oranges. Maybe... let's see, Scorange?"

The wall slid open, and both Rose's and Albus's jaws dropped. "Seriously?" Rose asked, desperately holding her laughter in. The two cousins stepped into the dark, elegantly furnished common room, surveying the black leather couches to the snake-adorned chandeliers above their heads. In a few windows, the lake water swept a green light all throughout the room.

"What are you doing here, Weasley?" a voice snarled. Rose turned to face Iridia von Loisson, the bit-witch, sorry.

"Looking for Ara and Scorp," she replied calmly, as Iridia got up from her green armchair next to the flickering fireplace. Iridia slunk towards them with a cat-like predatory crace.

"So, it's Scorp, now, is it? she taunted. "Should we tell pretty boy that Weasley the halfblood fancies him?"

Rose took a long breath to calm herself. "Bugger off, Iridia," Rose said, voice hardening.

"I don't take orders from halfbloods," she sneered. "What, Saint Potter's child won't even defend his cousin's honor? Sure is a reflection on how people see you, Weasley."

Rose was taken aback. Iridia was never typically this confrontational; usually Iridia would have just sneered and moved in the complete opposite direction.

Albus's expression hardened. He was just about to snap back at her when Emelda Nott came bounding through the entrance, stopping suddenly as she took in Iridia's snarl and the cousins' defensive stances.

"Rose-" Emelda interrupted before Albus could say something. "If you're looking for Scorp and Ara, they're probably up in my room," Emelda said quietly, grabbing hold of Albus's arm and directing them to the Slytherin girls' dormitory.

Albus was easily distracted by the lack of slides appearing as they climbed the steps to Ara and Emelda's room.

"How come boys can get up here?" Albus asked. "I thought every house had preventative measures."

Rose snickered after sending another glare at Iridia. "If you don't read Hogwarts a History, you won't get it. Have you ever tried it in Hufflepuff?"

"Well, no," Albus admitted as they passed several doors.

"Then you wouldn't have realized that it's just confined to Gryffindor. It was actually your grandmother's idea to prevent your grandfather from coming up to stalk her."

"Lily and James?" Albus clarified. Rose nodded.

"Seriously?" he asked, but before she could answer, Emelda pushed open the door to her room, and all conversation stopped.

After the age of two, Scorpius Malfoy had only cried once - when Ara had forbid him from ever speaking to her again after a particularly heated row. Since then, Scorpius did not cry. And yet, here he was, curled up in several blankets, hair sticking up and blotchy cheeks. He wasn't even in his school clothes - a cashmere sweater now peppered with tear stains. Ara was clutching his hand, silent tears dripping slowly. In Scorpius's other hand, he held a small, but detailed peacock ring.

Emelda froze. If there was ever an item that her aunt could not live without, it was that ring.

Rose tentatively stepped into the threshold, and gingerly sat down on Ara's bed next to Ara and Scorp, pushing away various tissues.

Albus approached the three, Emelda nearly collapsing behind him. Rose patted Scorp's hand, and he sniffed in response. "Scorp," she whispered. "We're here."

He nodded.

Rose didn't ask the numerous questions crowding to the front of her tongue. She calmed her mind, the questions about where he had been for the last few days, why he was crying, if his mum had died, if he was okay all clamoring to be voiced.

Albus didn't touch Scorpius Malfoy, or after any comforting words. He offered his presence, his silent support. Sometimes, words wounded, rather than healed. Sometimes, language failed us, and the crackling emotion communicated everything - everything needed to be said, and everything that couldn't.

Emelda had backed out of the room, feeling intrusive and melancholy as well.

The four students sat together silently on that bed for hours, skipping dinner and staying dangerously close to curfew. When it became clear that Rose and Albus needed to leave, they padded quietly to the door.

Scorpius locked eyes with the both of them, his eyes dry, but naked. He nodded, once, and the cousins smiled.

There are times when language fails humans, and their voices fall silent. There are times when another's mere existence is enough, knowing you are not alone in this world.

* * *

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy had sworn he wouldn't attend his mother's funeral so young. And yet, here he was, breaking his own promises.

His father, clad in black robes, stood stiffly behind him, a hand on his shoulder as various faces blurred together, offering their condolences. As he looked around at the numerous sympathy cards and flowers, he recalled Ara's solemn observation from that morning.

"Why does it seem like the most beautiful things only occur as a result of the saddest?" she asked dimly, fiddling with her long, black dress.

When they had finally sat down for the service, Scorpius bit down hard on his lip to hold back his tears. Lucius Malfoy and his Nana Narcissa sat on his left, and Lucius gave Scorpius a harsh glare.

"Malfoys do not cry," he hissed, tempted to strike the boy. Scorpius felt his father stiffen next to him.

The Minister presiding over the ceremony - Mr. Curbaink, cleared his throat as the gathered had found their seats.

"The Malfoy and Greengrass families would like to thank all of you for coming to pay your respects. We are gathered here today to honor the passing of a wonderful young woman, who bravely fought a dark curse in an unfortunate incident."

Scorpius clenched his jaw, anger bubbling inside of him. The minister made it sound as if his mum had fallen down the stairs, rather than fighting a coma and tumor for months.

"Let us begin with a poem, written by Alexandra Zabini, a family friend of Astoria's," the minister cleared his throat once more.

"As I dance away from the land of the living,

I can touch the stars of success and the lily of love.

Don't shed a tear, for I am still here.

Dancing to the beat of heaven above.

You can still see me, if you look closely enough.

In the sparkling night sky, or the dandelion tufts.

You can still hear me, if you listen closely enough.

In the babbling brook, or the whispering snuffs.

As I dance away from the land of the living,

My memory lives on, my mistakes are forgiving."

The minister finished, pausing in the silence. "Now," he said softly. "Daphne Nott, Astoria's sister, would like to say a few words."

Daphne stood up, rebelling under Emma Greengrass's deathlike glare.

"I'd like to thank everyone here, for, for being here today," she stumbled over her words slightly, in her grief. "For coming to honor my sister. My sister," she chuckled sadly. "My sister always told me that since I was at the beginning of her, that she would be at the end of me. Alas, this was not to be.

"From a young age, Tori was Mum, when I was Dad. She had an impeccable taste for style, color, design, anything artistic or creative - that was Tori. But sometimes, unlike Mum, she would do the most ridiculous things to throw us all off, always pushing the boundaries of what was acceptable. Rebellious and innocent, that was my Tori.

"But as any child in the war... that innocence was sh-shattered. Her dreams haunted by the dead, ears ringing with the screams of the tortured. We were broken, Tori and I. But we healed, and she grew to be a beautiful, sophisticated woman. She was my very best friend, my confidant. And though we agreed to disagree on many occasions, she was always there for me. If you don't have your family, well, what d-do you have?" Daphne asked tearfully, looking at Emma. Scorp couldn't tell if his grandmother was even the slightest bit affected by Daphne's speech. "She grew, fell in love. Married and had a gorgeous son. She lived a good life, and had so much more to live, when it was cruelly snatched away from her. But she will live on, in our hearts," Daphne promised.

"My Tori will always be here," Daphne put her hand above her heart.

"Thank you," she finished, stepping down.

"Thank you for sharing, Mrs. Nott," the minister said solemnly. "Next we have..."

Scorpius zoned out, the black coffin swimming in and out of focus. The words blurred together, the songs clamoring in Scorpius's ears. Nothing was enough to penetrate his foggy mind.

His mother. His only mother. Gone.

She had kissed his forehead once, before exhaling and letting go. It only took one breath, and she was gone.

And now it was his turn to say goodbye. Aunt Daphne had demanded that her sister be buried in the Greengrass family cemetery, to which Grandmother Emma and Grandfather Griffin had was, after all, Emma's favorite child. The funeral procession marched outside into the snow, where Astoria would be laid to rest. The hole was already waiting, waiting to swallow up his mother. As the coffin was levitated into the ground, Emma and Griffin raised their wands and everyone followed growing the dirt on her coffin and meshing perfectly with he green grass that was somehow vibrant even in the snows of winter.

One by one, each person charmed an everlasting astoria bloom to decorate her tomb. Soon, everyone had departed, save Scorpius, his father, and their best friends.

Aunt Alex took Scorpius's hand, brushing back a stray hair. Uncle Blaise placed a hand on Scorpius's shoulders, before Araluen hugged him firmly.

Scorpius stood there, facing his mother's headstone, barely noticing his Godparents' leaving to comfort his father. Ara stayed steadfast, holding hands as Scorpius stared at the stone engraving. Beloved daughter, mother, sister, and wife.

One sentence. One name. Two dates. Three lines total. That was all that was left of an entire lifetime.

After a while, he broke his gaze and stared at Ara, his friend since practically birth. She was his light, guiding him through the darkness and out of it. Staring at the delicate snowflakes fluttering to rest on her lashes, Scorpius hardly noticed Hermione Granger taking his father's hand, much like Ara had done for him. The simple gesture was al the Malfoy men needed. To know that another felt their pain. To know another cared. To know that they were not alone.

* * *

The Greengrasses were holding a reception, but neither the Zabinis nor the Malfoys had the stomach for it, declining politely and stopping by Zabini Manor. Scorpius was the sitting numbly by a roaring fire in the living room, the light playing about the shadows on his face. Hermione knelt in front of him, startling him out of his trance-like state.

"Mrs. Weasley?" He asked politely, surprised.

She gave him a pained expression, and he immediately felt bad, without knowing what he had said wrongly. "Please, call me Hermione." Scorpius nodded, and then shook his head.

"It's too casual," he explained. "How about Miss Hermione?"

"That's all right. Anyway," she paused, offering him a rectangular green box. "This is from your mother. Seeing as her time was taken away from her, she wrote you letters for the major events in your life. I helped her charm it so that whenever you reach an event relevant to one of her letters, it will appear on her desk or someplace to get your attention."

Scorpius stared dumbly at the box, and then back up to Hermione. "I can see why mum was jealous."

"Jealous?"Hermione asked. "Of me?"

Scorpius didn't answer her, merely thanking her sitting deeper into his chair as he read the first letter. Hermione left him to give him some privacy.

_Dearest Scorpius,_

_First and foremost, my boy, I love you. Although we were never very affectionate, and more often butting heads rather than agreeing, I will always love you and will always watch over you, no matter if I am dead or alive. I hope that my funeral wasn't too dismal; no child (I'm sorry, young man) should have to attend such an event at such a young age. Know that I will follow you, and that this is merely a temporary goodbye, not a permanent one._

_Secondly, your grandfather Lucius is a nightmare - please do not take any of his advice without careful consideration. You know how your father made numerous detrimental decisions under Lucius's guidance, so be wary of that man. Avoid him, if at all possible._

_I'd also like to explain some things, Scorp. You won't learn everything in this letter, but eventually you'll learn the whole story. Just be patient, my son._

_Your father and I were never "in love." The pureblood tradition limited the marriage pool, and we had both fallen in love with people that we could not be with. The logical decision was to marry each other, especially since we could at least tolerate the other's presence. Make sure that your father heals, and make sure he knows I wish him to move on. Tell your father that he deserves his love, for he truly is a great man, Scorpius. It's just unfortunate that we weren't meant to be._

_You'll understand why, later, but I want you to get to know Hermione Granger. Trust her, she's one of few that you should trust. Study hard, play hard, and live well. This letter will be one of many, so right now, there won't be much closure, I'm afraid. I hope to continue to be a presence in your life, even though I will not physically be able to live alongside you._

_I love you, Scorp. You'll be hearing from me soon._

_Love,_

_Astoria Greengrass Malfoy_

_Your Mother_

Scorp tearfully folded up the letter, replacing the empty slot in the green box.

Astoria Malfoy may not have saved the world, but she was outliving death through the simple symbols layered onto sheets of parchment. Her entire lifetime, all ashes beyond a few dresses in a closet, three lines on a tombstone, a few pieces of jewelry, and a series of letters.

It was dismal, the shadow of a person after the body itself was gone. A memory, half-preserved.

**AN: AND WE'RE BACKKKK! APs/SATs are done, and summer is coming! Want to say thanks to everyone for sticking with me this long (gosh 70K words already?!), and special thanks to those who have been reviewing all along the way, as well. Views in Kuwait and Ghana - YOU ROCK! In looking towards the future, since I didn't really have a plan for this story (just a random burst of inspiration), we're going to start the healing process and the Dramione bits, which will start to come in Chapter 15. I'm hoping we can get them together soon, and there are a couple loose ends to tie up (meaning Marcus Flint, Lucius Malfoy, whatever Narcissa's planning, and a prophecy that happened somewhere along the way). Anyways, no more than 5-7 chapters. After Chapter 15, there WILL be more action (fighting & romance). And obviously an Epilogue needs to happen. After that - it's onto the prequel (which is practically half-written)! No plans for a sequel, but the prequel is going to be both darker and hilarious. So keep an eye out for that, as well as the Malfoy's Mudblood, a Cinderella spin-off, which is a project I might continue if I get writer's block. Other than that, ta-ta for now! If you want something to happen in the next few chapters, leave me a note down there in the little 'review' box, because I'm just winging it for now.**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

_Always..._

"Thanks for letting us stay for Christmas, Alex," Draco said softly as they observed Ara and Scorp sitting by the fire, sipping their hot chocolate.

"It's not a problem. Anything to get you two away from your father," Alex replied. "I haven't seen your mom since the funeral. How's she doing?"

"Acting the perfect pureblood wife," Draco returned evenly. "She seems like she's planning something, but I don't know what, and I truly can't tell."

"Hmm," Alex pondered. "I'm also surprised that your Dad hasn't done anything, being the head of the family and all. Nothing with Medrex, nothing with Scorpius, nothing with Malfoy Enterprises... Nothing."

"That's worrisome," Blaise commented as he entered the room, levitating a tea set behind him.

"He's planning something," Draco decided as he poured himself some hot water, tossing Alex her favorite Vanilla Almond tea bag and opting for Earl Grey himself.

"What's your mother been doing the last few weeks?" Alex asked him.

"Well, I don't really know," Draco shrugged. "I know she cancelled the Malfoy Christmas Ball out of respect for Tori, and she's been the main planner for the Ministry New Year's Ball, so she's probably had to deal with those preparations. As well as my father..." Draco trailed off.

"Which, you are going to, right?" Alex inquired.

"Let me think- no," Draco scoffed.

"Draco, you _have_ to come," Alex huffed. "I get it Draco, Astoria hasn't been gone for even a month, but this is, unfortunately, business and politics. You're the CEO, honestly Draco."

"She's right, mate," Blaise added from his leather-backed chair.

"Of course she's right, she's your wife," Draco settling deeper into his armchair, feet up on the coffee table.

"It's not just that," Blaise sighed. "The investors and shareholders are already worried that Tori's passing and your father's reemergence have thrown you off of your game. If you don't show up at the Ministry New Year's Ball, I can guarantee you that the stocks will fall. You have to go, for the company's sake," Blaise concluded.

"Merlin damn it all," Draco muttered. "What do we do with the kids?" he asked, pointing towards Ara and Scorp. Just then, Zayden came running into the room, tackling Scorp.

"SCORPY-POO!" Zayden cheered gleefully. "You better have gotten me a good present this time. That snitch you got me last year broke."

"How can a snitch break?" Scorp asked confusedly from the ground.

"More like Zayden smashed it into a tree when he got angry at something," Ara snorted.

"That wouldn't have broken it..." Scorp trailed off.

"-and exploded it with his accidental magic," Ara finished.

"Ah." Scorp warily eyed the little Zabini clinging onto him.

"Mother would be happy to watch them," Blaise sighed.

"So suit up, Draco, because you _are _going to this ball, whether you like it or not," Alex ordered, and Draco conceded, knowing he wouldn't win this argument.

* * *

"Hermione, you're going to the Ministry ball, right?" Chloe asked as she sat down in front of Hermione. Hermione glanced up from her paperwork and gave Chloe a disbelieving look.

"No, it's too early," Hermione said primly. "What would people say? Their beloved war heroine turned widow within months goes out partying again? No thanks, I can see the _Prophet's_ headline right now."

"Seriously?" Chloe rolled her eyes. "You're actually concerned about your public image?"

"Yes," Hermione deadpanned. Chloe switched subjects.

"Has Narcissa sent out her invites to the Malfoy Christmas Ball?"

"I haven't seen anything come through, which is unusual. She normally sends them out in the beginning of December. Everything though, that happened with Draco's dad and Astoria probably kept her busy. There probably won't be one. Blaise and Alex won't have one either. "

"Yeah, Alex mentioned that it could be interpreted as disrespectful to Tori, so they decided that they better not. Too bad, I've been wanting to see Le Page since she's moved to Italy."

"Who?" Hermione asked, trying to recall someone named "Leh Pajuh".

"Paige? The curse breaker!"

"Oh, yes, I haven't seen her in awhile."

"Well, that's weird. I thought we lived in Italy," Chloe drawled sarcastically.

"No need to be Sarcastic Sally." Hermione shook her head, focusing back on the latest mermaid versus Cthulu settlement.

"Perhaps she'll be at the Ministry Ball. Which, by the way, reminds me. You're coming to the Ministry Ball, and you're finding a date," Chloe decided, standing up in her ridiculously high heels. She glared at Hermione, glasses completing her stern composure. That's that. I'll see you at my house on the first, probably starting at one o'clock. You better have a dress."

"Chloe!" Hermione protested, exasperated. "I'm not going, and that's final."

"Oh come on, Hermy. It'll be a new year. Time to heal and move on."

"Had I been moping for a year, at the very minimum, that argument might actually make sense."

"Call Ginny if you need help dress shopping in the next few weeks. As much as I hate the bitch, she has decent taste. Far more daring than you. In fact, how about this. I'll find you a date."

"For the last time, I'm not going!" Hermione huffed as her office door slammed shut behind Chloe.

* * *

"Happy Christmas!" the Weasleys cheered as Hermione, Rose, Hugo, and her parents entered the Burrow. Rose and Hugo quickly ran off to find Albus and the rest of their cousins, and Arthur had again pulled Hermione's parents to the side to inquire about the latest tablets and whatnot. Ginny caught Hermione's arm, dragging her to the living room where Harry and George were having a go at wizard's chess.

"Hey Hermione," Harry greeted as she approached, his focus, however, on avoiding the death of his queen.

"Hey Harry. George," she smiled, and he grinned back.

"So I heard from Chloe that you need a dress," Ginny said excitedly.

"I wasn't really planning to go, actually. Are you and Harry going? I just felt like it will be too early," Hermione said softly.

Ginny nodded sympathetically. "I get it," she sighed. "But Harry and I have to go anyways, him being Head Auror Potter and all. Sometimes being married to the Chosen One has its downsides."

"Well," Hermione began to reconsider. "If you want me there for support, I'll come."

Ginny grinned, Chloe's plan falling perfectly into place. "Oh would you? Hermione, you're such a good friend. I would really appreciate it, for my own sanity. Plus, I don't think I can take much of Fleur's babbling.

"Yes, all right, I'll come," Hermione agreed.

"Excellent!" Ginny cheered. "It'll be a wonderful start to the new year. We need to find dresses. After we wrap up the New Years' issue, I'm free all next week."

"Isn't this your Christmas vacation?" Hermione asked disbelievingly. "Parvarti must be a slave driver if she's demanding you work anytime before we're solidly in January."

"Nah, it's just this time, she and the rest of the editors recently got something good on the attacks happening in France, so she wants this issue to be special. As such, I have to sum up all the games that Britain's played in this year. It's not tough, just time consuming and rather tedious."

"Hah!" Harry's triumphant cry broke into their conversation, just as Molly announced dinner.

"Oh Molly, you've outdone yourself," Angelina's mother praised. The dinner table was massive, somehow managing to accommodate all of the children, the in laws, and the entire Weasley clan. Don't forget the food, too.

Conversation flowed easily, stuttering slightly as Harry turned to Ron's old spot for backup in a particularly heated debate with Angelina about the latest Puddlemere Quidditch game.

"Oliver Wood and Cho Chang, eh? I hear that they're finally going on their honeymoon, now that Alden's at Hogwarts" George piped up as Harry looked awkwardly away from the empty chair next to Hermione's. "Never thought that those two had a shot. I had heard that she married some muggle, but something didn't go well."

Audrey leaned into the conversation, ignoring Percy's latest discourse on the French attacks. "From the times we've made small talk at the Puddlemere reunions, she was desperate after the war, falling quickly without much thought."

"She should've waited to heal from the war," Ginny added disapprovingly. "She treated that poor bloke like a rebound."

"Well, in essence, he really was," Hermione pointed out. "At least she's doing well with Oliver. He's a good man."

"You would know," George waggled his eyebrows.

"Okay, that was one lunch in Diagon Alley, and that was years ago," Hermione scoffed.

"Pass the potatoes, please," Hugo piped up from his chair.

"Of course," Roxanne replied affectionately.

The rest of Christmas dinner went by smoothly, though Fleur's offer to buy dresses for Hermione and Ginny was politely turned down. After many hugs and presents, Hermione and her children retired for the night.

"Ready?" Alex asked, grinning up at her husband.

"Yes, I am. We'll see you kids tomorrow morning, all right? Behave for your grandmother," Blaise told Ara and Zayden. They nodded.

"Oh nonsense," Cedrina Sforza smiled. "They're always _i miei angeli_." _My angels._

"That's good," Blaise replied, kissing his mother on the cheek.

"_Naturalmente_, and Alexandra, you are simply stunning. I told you this was _il perfetto_ evening gown! Just look at the way the drop waistline perfectly accents that ruched bodice. That brooch, my dear!"

Alex grinned, looking down at the midnight blue taffeta. "Thanks Cedrina," Alex smiled.

"Off to the ball, you two. Go!"

The Zabinis said their goodbyes and apparated to the Ministry's main ballrooms for events such as these. Draco begrudgingly met up with them, one hundred percent in black.

"Why don't you ever try another color?" Blaise sighed.

"Because some people can't pull off a midnight blue suit like you can," Draco snapped. "I don't understand how you two manage to find a dress and suit that match perfectly like that."

"Cedrina," Alex answered. "Everything we get must be approved by her, and she decided that Blaise needed a custom-made suit to coordinate perfectly with this color."

Draco huffed. "I hate these bloody parties. Ah- there's Parkinson. Been worried about her recently, she just found out that she's pregnant." Draco drifted off into Pansy's direction. Alex nudged Blaise.

"Felix Flint," Alex whispered. Blaise nodded.

"Likely," he murmured in reply.

"Does she always dress like that?" Alex asked him. He nodded.

"Let's see, tightly fitted? Check. Red, black, hot pink, or green? It's red, so check. Sparkles and lace? Check. Tulle mermaid skirt? Yup. Definitely Pansy," Blaise laughed. "Oh look, there's everyone."

Alex and Blaise headed towards their university friends.

Laura Jordan and Chandler Finch-Fletchley, the expert broom makers, were smiling and chatting with Paige Caruso, who had been living in Italy with her husband Luca for a few years, now.

Blaise joined Lee and Justin in a discussion about the latest game between Britain and Ghana, while Alex began oohing over everyone's dresses.

"Laura, that white and green ball gown is simply stunning," Alex cooed. "It looks like you've just been married!"

Laura smiled. "Well, it's our anniversary in a few days, so I felt inspired. But take a look at Paige – this newly Italian woman. Gorgeous, I haven't gotten around to tell you that," Laura grinned, her curls bouncing.

It was true. Paige's slimming white dress was both simple yet perfectly accentuated with its low-cut back and beaded one shoulder strap. Chandler also looked beautiful in her green ball gown, with black flowers scattered across the bodice and full skirt.

"Thanks," Paige grinned. "Looking sharp Alex. Have you seen Chloe's heels? And that black dress. Merlin, she's got the gloves, a gigantic ballgown, and the whole ensemble."

"She still hasn't gotten over her shoe fetish, has she?" Chandler sighed, shaking her head.

"No, she hasn't," Alex smirked.

"Here comes Tash and Megan!" Laura cheered, waving their former roommates over.

"Tash, that forest green is really wonderful on you," Chandler smiled.

"Why thank you," Tash grinned, swishing around the beautifully draped chiffon. Megan bounced up in her bright red ball gown, complete with a full ruffled skirt.

"Malfoy still doesn't trust me," Megan giggled, reminding us of the time she had turned him into a platypus. "Honestly, you would have thought he would've gotten over it by now."

"Well when you make a whole song out of it to make fun of Malfoypus…" Alex trailed off, smirking. "He won't ever trust you again. Despite having turned you into a tribble."

"Okay, I did deserve that," Megan conceded. "But anyways, I have news guys! I'm expecting!"

"How exciting!" "Congratulations!" everyone cheered.

"Boy or girl?" Chandler asked.

"We're waiting to see. If it's a boy, Dennis wants his name to be 'Dennis,' so that Henri can have a proper lifetime with Dennis as his brother." Megan detailed.

"Henri? I thought his name was Colin?" Laura asked, confused.

"Well his first name is Colin, but we call him by Henri because sometimes it's too much for Big Dennis."

"Aww, how sweet," Paige smiled. "Okay, sorry to interrupt, but who's that bitch in the black dress?"

The girls turned to look, spotting a tall dark-haired woman resplendent in a one-sleeved dress, black tentacles slithering across her collarbone. It was gorgeous, yet deadly looking. The sleek gown's swirling sleeve continued down the bodice, wrapping around her curves to give her the perfect illusion of a humanized black swan.

"Vaila Seris," Tash answered, making a face. "Adrian's family always drags me to these stupid Pureblood gatherings. She's always there."

"There's Kaelyn and Charlie," Alex pointed out.

"Where?" Chandler asked.

"In the purple? See the woman wearing the purple dress with the sweetheart neckline and the white embroidery?" Paige pointed.

"Ahh. Is that Cho in the gold?" Laura asked.

"Yeah, and Luna in the light blue. Ginny in the black, with the bejeweled strap," Chloe said, walking up to the group and dragging Hermione with her. "Ugh, I hate Ginny so much," Chloe sighed.

"I just don't understand why," Hermione said confusedly.

"Hermione, you are gorgeous," Alex complimented. The other girls nodded their heads in agreement, admiring the champagne colored ball gown.

"Thanks, but this sequined bodice is kind of itchy," she complained. "And I've never been a fan of sparkly, tulle skirts. Not this big. I would've preferred black, too, but you know Ginny."

"Oh shut your mouth," Chloe rolled her eyes.

"Nonsense," Megan dismissed. "It's a new year, Hermione. Breathe a little."

"Anyone seen Valmik and Regina?" Chandler asked. "Justin had heard a rumor that she's almost seven months along."

"Another one?" Paige asked. "I can't even keep up with my two girls."

"Prim and Rue, right?" Megan clarified.

"Yup. Forget having five children. That's ridiculous."

"Okay, someone tell me, what on Earth has been going on in France?" Alex asked, namely facing Megan. "The _Prophet_'s been rather useless about it. My sister's been in France for a while, thought she should be here later tonight. I'm a bit worried."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Ginny said that she had to work overtime because the editors of the _Prophet_ actually got something good on the incidents occurring."

Megan sighed. "It wasn't so bad in September – there were a few riots over the new integration policies that the French Minister has been trying to put into place, but it's getting progressively worse. Loads of muggleborns going missing or murdered, their advocates and advocates for werewolf right hurt as well. It's an utter mess. The Minister's daughter was just kidnapped for the sole purpose of a bargaining chip. Whoever's behind these attacks wants the Ministry to repeal those policies, and hand power, unsurprisingly, to the Death Eaters."

"Is he going to give in?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"No idea. Dennis is already moving us back up here to the UK, and quite frankly I'm ready to leave France. Hogwarts is a better fit for Henri, anyways," Megan explained.

"Oh, there's your date, Hermione!" Chloe grinned, grabbing Hermione's arm, but she wouldn't budge.

"Who?" Hermione asked stubbornly, looking over the crowd of people.

"Your favorite vile, evil little cockroach," Chloe smirked, waving Draco over.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Chloe!" she shrieked. "Of all the fucking people to set me up with, you set me up with _him?_"

"My my, little Miss Goody Two Shoes swears like a sailor. Watch your language," Chloe scolded, a huge grin on her face as Draco approached. The rest of the girls were watching with mild amusement.

"All right Loomer, who did you set me up with? She better be gorgeous, because I am honestly _not_ in the mood to tolerate just any dumb bint. Pansy's destroyed all of my patience for the night," Draco stated boredly.

"If you in any way find me a dumb bint, then we can happily separate for the night and never see each other again," Hermione snapped. Draco's eyes narrowed.

"You set me up with _her?_ Loomer, for Merlin's sake, I asked for someone who would just help me with the blasted publicity, not create bloody _more_ of it!"

"Honestly Draco, we've known each other for over a decade. I think we should be on a first name basis by now," Chloe continued to smirk, which Draco found all the more irritating.

"Um, Chloe dear, I don't know if you've noticed, but it's Malfoy," Chloe's husband, Zacharias Smith, said from behind her.

"True, I guess. The least you could do is call me Smith, now."

"There are too bloody many Smiths in the world. Haven't we gone over this since Smith came?" Draco snapped, still aggravated.

"You mean Matt?" Blaise clarified, stepping into the conversation. He grinned, enjoying the livid look on Hermione's face, perfectly matched to Draco's flaring nostrils.

"Yes the bloody Canadian bloke," Draco affirmed stiffly.

"Him and his bagged milk," Alex giggled.

"This still doesn't change the fact that you set us up, specifically so!" Hermione protested.

"No, it doesn't. And unless you somehow manage to find another single woman here besides Vaila Seris, you're going to have to pose with Hermione for the rest of the night," Chloe laughed.

"I hear a tango coming on," Zach wriggled his eyebrows at Chloe, and she gave him a disparaged look.

"In these shoes?" she raised an eyebrow.

"For fuck's sake, Loomer! You can run in heels better than you can sit in your flats. Get out of my sight before I murder you!" Draco snarled. Zach led Chloe away, who was openly snickering and threw a wink back towards Alex, who returned it.

But even after Chloe's departure, Draco and Hermione found no peace in their surroundings.

"Well, well, well. Mr. Zabini and Mr. Malfoy, you have certainly outdone yourselves," Vaila Seris sneered haughtily, aloofly holding her thin glass of the magical version of champagne.

"Sorry?" Blaise asked, confused but wary.

"Gorgeous. Intelligent. Surprisingly sophisticated for girls who haven't been raised in... British high society," Vaila smirked. "In other words, the perfect dates. And yet you still manage to break the rules."

"I wasn't aware that there were any rules dictating whom I can and cannot bring," Draco drawled.

"Don't play daft, Malfoy, it doesn't suit you," she snapped.

"Well, care to elaborate?" Hermione asked, annoyed.

"But of course. It's my duty to educate those unfamiliar with our traditions. You," she pointed to Alex. "For example. I don't think the word 'pureblood' exists in American society."

"Just because it isn't a concept we often consider doesn't mean it doesn't exist," Alex answered smoothly.

"Well, if I were American, I'd be asking you to recite the last ten generations on both sides of your family."

"And if you were American, I'd be happy to answer," Alex shot back.

Vaila paused, knowing she had been just outplayed. She reevaluated the woman before her. "Well played," she conceded. "And you?" she whirled on Draco. "What do you have to say for yourself? Bringing along a Mudblood?" she hissed.

"Ah, I was waiting to get to that," Hermione sighed.

"I'd prefer it if you did not use that sort of language in... Hermione's and my presence," Draco growled.

"Hermione's and my presence? Not our? Not 'in front of me and my date?' Well, what an interesting development," Vaila said slowly, tapping her finger to her chin. "My apologies, _Mrs Weasley_, for my... political incorrectness. Well, Draco, don't think you can get off so easily next time."

"I wasn't aware that we were on a first name basis," Draco growled.

"Well, it's not like there are any _rules_ to... how did you put it? _Dictate_ how I address you, or where respect is due... and is not. Just know, in your present company, well, that there are certain consequences."

"I'm glad you have assuaged our fears that repercussions would fall upon those undeserving," Hermione said slowly with narrowed eyes.

"Oh, I never said anything about _that_. Merely, I was suggesting that certain people ought to watch themselves. One American or Mudblood toe out of line is all it takes."

"Ms. Seris," Blaise said sternly.

"My apologies, again," Vaila feigned innocence. "That sort of vocabulary just comes too easily, being raised in respectable society and all. Good evening," she said dismissively, strutting to both the next couple conversing quietly.

"What a bitch," Hermione commented once Vaila was out of earshot.

"Believe it or not, I was actually betrothed to her once upon a time," Draco said seriously. Hermione nearly spit out Narcissa's carefully selected champagne.

"She's a bloody menace, that one," Blaise scoffed. Hermione flinched, recognizing a familiar line. "Lucky you didn't have to marry her, mate."

"No kidding," Alex snorted. "But it looks like she benefitted too, seeing that she's the most eligible bachelorette in Britain."

"Her?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Yup," Alex answered morbidly.

"Let's dance," Blaise smiled, twirling Alex to the dance floor.

Draco and Hermione were left awkwardly standing next to each other, both silently watching the other couples dancing to a waltz. They stood there, side by side, for the duration of several dances.

"Why are we doing this again?" Hermione asked, finally breaking the silence.

"Doing what?" he asked dryly.

"This, " Hermione repeated, gesturing back and forth between them.

"The awkwardness, or the unfortunate trusting of Loomer?" Draco clarified.

"More the first part. How did we get here?" Hermione asked softly. "From archenemies, to friends, to... partners, to this..."

"Partners?" Draco snorted. "Was that all we were?"

"Well, I don't know what to call it. Lovers is a bit too intimate, but I agree that partners is too dry. We weren't officially a couple, so... ugh!" Hermione gave up, exasperated.

"Reality happened, " Draco answered.

Hermione fell silent, her eyes returning to the dance floor.

Draco sighed, offering his hand.

"Shall we dance?"

Hermione bit her lip, looking up to meet his silver eyes. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded, placing her hand in his.

Draco led her out to a simple waltz, swaying gently to the music. As they circled around the dance floor, different couples smirked (namely Chloe and Zach, as well as Alex and Blaise), others gaped (Dean and Parvarti, Wayne and Susan, Anthony and Tracey, the rest of the entire ballroom), and the photographers worked themselves into a frenzy. The couple tried their best to ignore the flashes and busting gossipers, but Hermione quickly became fed up.

"Remind me why we couldn't just have walked our separate ways?" Hermione asked, gritting her teeth.

"Because I need to show that I'm capable of running my damn company, " Draco shot back.

"How does having a date to a Ministry ball have anything to do with that?"

"To show that I'm strong enough to deal with my wife's death on top of my father's reappearance. I show the public that I'm not hiding in a hole with grief. That I am perfectly fine, and not afraid of the female gender. That I am in control of myself, and therefore my company," Draco explained.

"Wouldn't it be more scandalous to come with a date only weeks after being widowed?" Hermione asked.

"Perhaps in the general public world, but not so in the business world. It's not uncommon for major business heads to have affairs on the side. I'm more concerned about image in that world, as opposed to the readers of the Daily Prophet. "

"Please tell me that you'll shut down any rumors of infidelity. "

"Of course, you're merely a friend who has helped me cope with Astoria's death since your similar experience with Weasley."

"Perfect, " Hermione approved, buying the story.

"So for the remainder of tonight, smile and wave," Draco murmured.

"Don't tell me we have to take any pictures. Please," Hermione groaned. Seeing Draco's raised eyebrow, she sighed in defeat. "You were planning for a whole article to be printed about you, weren't you? And that's why you really needed a date."

"You know me too well," Draco shrugged as the dance ended. He leant in, whispering in her ear. "In fact, why don't we cause some more gossip so that one of the reporters finds us and gets the whole interview over with?"

Hermione played along, pasting on a mysterious smile. "Better now than later," she muttered back in a low voice. "In fact, why don't we pass by all of those gawking people holding hands?"

"You've spent far too much time in the presence of Slytherins," Draco smirked, grabbing her hand and deliberately flaunting it in front of the crowd. Soon enough a crowd of reporters elbowed their way through the crowd.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

"Mrs. Weasley!"

"Could I get a quote-"

"Stand for a picture, please?"

"How long have you been dating-?"

"Are you dating at all?"

"Didn't your wife just pass aw-?"

"What would your husband sa-?"

One woman, completely bleached blonde and complete with some obnoxious coral lipstick, managed to shove her way to the front.

"Sheila Kessly, for _Glamour Witch Magazine_. Give me the lowdown on your appearance tonight together. Did you two have a secret love affair during your marriages, only to be freed after your respective partners passed away?"

"Love affair?" Hermione laughed softly. "No, of course not. It's been hard, you know? Losing the one you love."

"So why are you together here at the Ministry Ball?" another man shouted out from the crowd. A sudden hush had fallen over everyone, all waiting to hear the answer.

"Just to be frank, we are friends, both healing from the loss of our significant others," Hermione clarified.

Draco cleared his throat. "You all know Hermione, our most caring and supportive heroine. It's in her nature to protect and save other people. My grief over... my lost love," Draco choked, and Hermione patted him on the back soothingly. "It was unbearable. But Hermione shares my pain. She knows how hollow you feel, when you lose your everything. She's made me stronger, and she's helped me to see how... Tori is in a better place. That's why I asked her to accompany me to the Ball today. She's shown me how to accept that Tori's suffering, is now over. And although I'll dearly miss her, Hermione has shown me how Tori would want me to move on, not prolong _my_ suffering."

"We've found strength in each other," Hermione added softly. "Who would you go to a Ball with, if you had lost your soulmate? We're secure with each other, and we keep moving."

"Everyone needs a Gryffindor sooner or later," Draco joked a little tearfully, and some of the reporters laughed.

"So how did you reconnect?" the same man asked, apparently unsatisfied with the material they had provided him. "Shaun Cible, from _Magi-Chic_. Sources have leaked that you met in Australia, and were definitely more than friends? What broke you up? Why did you reconnect now?"

"More than friends?" Hermione asked, laughing a little. "What on Earth gave you that idea?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Shaun, you must be making a secondary school mistake. Boys and girls _can_ be best friends and not be dating," he rolled his eyes, smiling a bit to show that he was joking, but Shaun took the hint and backed off.

"Truth is that we were indeed friends in Australia, but life got in the way, you know?" Hermione appealed to the crowd. "We've all had friends that distanced over time, whether we wanted to distance or not." Reporters nodded their heads sympathetically. "But when Ron..." Hermione bit her lip, and Draco gripped her hand. She smiled up at him sadly. "When Ron was taken from us, Draco was immediately by my side. I could only return the favor when we lost Tori."

"Pose for a few pictures?" Sheila grinned, her white teeth gleaming a tad bit threateningly.

"Of course," Draco answered smoothly.

The rest of the night, they held hands, braving the flashes of cameras and whispers of gossip. Chloe Smith smirked the entire way through.

**AN: Hey guys! Summer is here! Hopefully I can pick up the pace! Thanks much to Snape'sPaige394 especially for coming up with the reporters and their magazines. More dramione, coming your way! Only a few more chapters left, and things are about to happen next chapter! Thanks for the reviews guys, I love hearing your feedback. Go Norway and Iceland! Can't wait to hear your reactions to the next chapters. Oh! And by the way, most of the dresses described are on my profile, so you can go view them there! Till the next chapter - and I have plans! Muahahahaha :D**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

_A memory, half-preserved..._

"Better," Professor Pucey praised as Ara nonverbally blocked a stinging hex. "Mr. Malfoy, you ought to learn something from these girls," she said dryly, gesturing to Ara and Rose.

Scorpius grit his teeth, and narrowed his eyes, gripping his wand more tightly.

"Again," he demanded, and Professor Pucey obliged. He half deflected it, but somehow failed to block the part that hit him on the shoulder. He hissed in pain.

"Zabini, practice with him," Professor Pucey demanded, and moved onto another group.

Ara sighed. "You wanna take a break?"

"No," Scorpius said decisively. "Again."

Much of the period continued in the same pattern, Scorpius demanding another shot to get it right, and Ara boredly sending him another hex.

"Again!" Scorpius demanded.

"Scorp, shouldn't we-?"

SCREECH. SCREECH. SCREECH. Thousands of Caterwauling Charms suddenly went off, interrupting Ara in the middle of her sentence.

"Shit!" Professor Pucey cursed, not caring if the students heard her or not.

McGonagall's silver cat pounced into the room, silencing the Caterwauling Charms within the room.

"Professor Pucey, secure your students in your classroom, and ward it off. Marcus Flint had invaded Hogwarts. Stay safe," the cat ordered, and then disappeared.

"You heard the cat, into the back room," Professor Pucey ordered, but Scorpius was positively livid.

"Are you kidding me?" he demanded, his cheeks turning red. "We're sitting ducks if Flint comes in here! We'll be _waiting_ for him to kill us, and we all know who he's targeting!" Scorpius shouted.

"Orders are orders," Professor Pucey said firmly, ushering the kids up the stairs and into her office.

"I will _not_ stand for this," Scorpius yelled. "What use is DADA then? When we actually need it, when we're in an actual situation, we don't even get to try? We don't even get the _chance_ when Flint comes bursting in here with his Avadas? You _know_ he will. You _know_ he's out to get _her._"

Professor Pucey whipped around and grabbed him by his collar. "I am _responsible_ for you, you twit," she spat. "You probably don't understand the meaning of the word yet. Guess what it means? If you die, as you seem so keen to do, it is _my_ fault. I am _not_ going to let you run out in the middle of a duel and kill yourself!"

"So you're going to lock me in an office, with no way out, in hopes that he won't find me?" Rose asked softly. "Professor Pucey, you know he's coming for me. You know he will find me. And you know that if you stick me in that office, I'll be fighting with my back against the wall. That's one of the first things to avoid in a fight," she stated, echoing one of their previous lectures.

"Merlin damn you and your brains. You're right," Professor Pucey cursed. "All those in favor of staying behind, get into my office. The rest of you know the consequences of heading outside. Choose now!" she snapped, and most of the first years huddled into her office.

"WAIT!" a voice shouted, barging into the room.

"Finnegan where the fuck were you?" Professor Pucey demanded.

"Bathroom," he shot back, coolly, twitching ever so slightly.

"Get in the office," she snapped. He stomped in, glowering at Scorpius, Rose, Emelda, Ara, Albus and Harper, all of whom refused to stay. Once inside, Professor Pucey sealed the doors, warding it with several security layers.

The silver tabby cat reappeared. "Natasha! He's in the courtyard, we need you!"

Professor Pucey pushed open the doors of the classroom, and the students poured out into the hall. "Find the secret passageway to Hogsmeade, and go!" she hissed, running off in the direction of the courtyard.

The students looked at each other, and instead of searching for the passageway, Rose followed after the Professor, jogging quietly to the courtyard.

As they rounded the corner, Ara grabbed Rose by the arm, slamming her into the wall.

"Ow! Merlin Ara!" Rose exclaimed, rubbing her elbow. "Let go of me!"

"He's out to get you, are you stupid?" Ara snapped. "You should really go, just get out of here!"

Rose wrenched her arm out of Ara's grasp. "I think we can handle him, all of Hogwarts' professors and the best DADA students," she snapped, dashing into the battle.

"He might not be alone!" Ara snarled. "ROSE!" Ara shouted. "For Merlin's sake!" Ara followed, and the rest of the students charged ahead, entering an utter warzone.

Flashes of red and green spells were blasting left and right, the professors' spells deflecting off of Flint harmlessly. Scorpius shoved Ara to the ground as a stray Avada went sailing inches above their heads, and Rose kept running to the heat of the battle.

"HOLLYN!" Melody cried as her best friend was caught in a crossfire. The blonde girl was thrown into a pile of broken stone, limp as a rag doll. Leonora grabbed Melody, pulling her away. "HOLLYN!" Melody cried as Leonora pulled them to safety, retreating in the opposite direction in hopes of an escape.

"MELODY AND LEONORA GET OUT OF HERE!" Coach Jordan screamed, blocking one of Flint's spells towards the girls.

"Is Rose stupid?" Ara spat, pulling Scorpius up and following the red head.

"Gryffindork," Scorp answered, dodging a nasty chartreuse looking spell.

"How is that possible?" Emelda asked breathlessly, pointing towards Flint.

Flint was surrounded on all four sides, circled by McGonagall, Longbottom, Pucey, Huang, Flitwick, Jordan, even Trelawney was pelting him with spare crystal balls. And yet, not a single spell (or crystal ball) was hitting its mark. No shield was in sight, and yet, every _Petrificus Totalus_ and _Stupefy_ bounced off, so that another person had to duck to avoid being hit.

"This isn't going anywhere," Albus frowned, grabbing Emelda's arm to pull her out of the way of an exploding column. "It's not even getting weaker!"

"AHH!" shrieked Amy Weasley, caught by one of Flint's purple spells. She collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain. Elliot grabbed his girlfriend, desperately trying to pull her out of the way of flying debris, only to be caught by one of Flint's Avadas.

"ELLIOT" Connor yelled, watching helplessly as his best friend collapsed on the ground, his eyes lifeless.

Rose stopped in her tracks, seeing Amy's torture and Connor's anguish, and decided that she was done. Two people had _died_ because of her, and damn it if Rose Weasley wasn't a Gryffindor.

"FLINT!" she taunted. "Marcus Flint!" she shouted, and he turned to look at her, his crazed eyes targeting his next victim. "You want me? Don't you? You want the _mudblood_ to feel the pain! WELL COME AND GET ME, and leave everyone else alone!"

"BLASTED GRYFFINDORK!" Scorpius cursed, wordlessly deflecting one of Flint's spells. "Hey! Ara did you see that?"

"Focus, Scorp!" Ara hissed bouncing one of Flint's spells right back at him.

"Rose you idiot!" Lucy Weasley called. "Get out of he-" but was cut short as a spell blasted her into the wall. She slumped on the floor, motionless.

"FUCK!" Professor Pucey swore, shielding the other children. "I told you to get the fuck out of here!" Professor Pucey shouted.

"STOP IT!" Rose shrieked at the murderer. "STOP IT!"

Flint chuckled maniacally, tilting his head, his pupils changing from brown to green, and back again. "Oh little baby _mudblood_ speaks, does she? Baby Rosie flower wants me to stop hurting its friends, does it? Well, how does _this _feel?" he jeered. "CRUCIO!" he pointed his wand at Harper, who collapsed, screaming. "CRUCIO! CRUCIO! CRUCIO!" Flint repeated, over and over again. The red light penetrated Ara and Albus's _Protego_ easily, hitting its makr every time.

"Stop," Rose begged, tears streaming down her face. "You want my pain, don't you? Why don't you just take it out on me?"

Flint giggled, skipping towards her, completely unaffected by the professors who tried to block his path. If they got anywhere within two feet of him, they were completely blown back into the piles of rubble, knocked unconscious.

"Baby Rosie flower doesn't understand yet? Does it? Baby Rosie flower isn't old enough. The _guilt_ dearie baby. The _guilt _just eats you up and kills you from the inside out. It's more painful, volatile than a measly little _Crucio_. But I guess it wouldn't hurt, would it? _Crucio!_" he shouted, but Rose ducked. "Rosiepoo knows how to dodge. Run little girl. Let's see you run!" he cackled dementedly, shooting spell after spell at her.

As Flint's concentration was on Rose, Connor tearfully looked up from Elliot's body, seeing a darkened shadow, slithering out of a tarnished silver chain hanging round Flint's neck. Doubtful, but figuring he might as well give it a shot, Connor shot a _Stupefy_ towards the origin of the shadow.

It was absorbed, turning the bubble shield into a soft scarlet so that it became visible for a moment, before the silver chain flashed red, but slightly different from the stunning spell. Confused, Connor tried an _Expelliarmus_, but the spell was reflected off just like all the others, despite Connor's good aim.

And then, Connor understood.

"_STUPEFY! EXPELLIARMUS!_" Connor shouted, aiming for the blackened necklace. Flint's shield turned scarlet, then red, and then the necklace flashed light blue, almost clear. Apparently, Flint was oblivious to his color-changing shield, focused on shooting spells at Rose Weasley.

"_STUPEFY! EXPELLIARMUS! PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!_" Connor shouted, and the shield quickly flashed scarlet, red, light blue, and finally, green.

"It can't be..." Connor whispered, wide eyed. "I can't do it."

"DAD!" Fiona Flint called, running into the courtyard. "DAD STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"_Sectumsempra!_" he shouted at Rose, who dodged it with most of her body, but was hit on the wrist, hissing in pain.

"DAD STOP!" Fiona shrieked.

Flint whirled around pointing his wand at his daughter, his eyes still flashing between their natural brown and their insane green. His wand arm shuddered, shaking as Flint warred with himself.

"_Avada-_" he began, but his left arm shoved its fist into his own mouth, the right arm still pointing at Fiona.

"Stop, father, please!" she begged. "Look at you! You're not like this! I know you're in there Dad. Help me!"

Connor took a deep breath as Flint's left fist tore out of his mouth. "_Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Petrificus Totalu-_" Connor began.

"_Av-_" Flint began.

"-_s!_"

"_-ada_"

"_Avada-_"

"_Ked-_"

"_Kedav-_"

"_-avr_"

"_-rah!_" Connor shouted with all his might, completing the spell just before Flint.

Suddenly, Flint's magical shield shattered, and he was stupefied, paralyzed, sent to sleep, and all manner of spells at once.

Connor slumped to the ground, exhausted by the casting of an unforgivable curse.

"DAD!" Fiona screamed, fighting her way past the professors and throwing herself onto her father. "DON'T TOUCH HIM!" she screamed.

"Ms. Flint!" McGonagall exclaimed sternly. "Your father isn't in his right mind. We need to secure him, so please move out of the way."

"He's just going to go to Azkaban, isn't he?" Fiona sobbed, grabbing more tightly onto her father. "You're going to send him to the dementors, who will just make him more crazy! I won't let you!"

"Are you kidding me?" Professor Pucey asked, flabbergasted. "Your dad almost fucking killed you and you're concerned that he's going to Azkaban?"

"Language!" Flitwick cried out, offended.

Fiona stared up and Professor Pucey, brown eyes narrowing. "Slytherins stick together. Family first. Friends follow. Anything else is collateral damage," Fiona spat. "Purebloods all know the rule, and _you_ really ought to, being married to one."

"But Slytherins believe in self-preservation, too," Professor Pucey added. "And we certainly don't believe in stupidity." Fiona glared at her professor.

Coach Jordan knelt down next to Fiona, grabbing her hand. "Come on, Fiona. I promise you that we'll try our best to get him back to normal. But he's very dangerous right now, so would you come over here and let our healer check you over?"

Fiona nodded slowly, getting off her dad and slowly approached Coach Jordan.

"Come now, Fiona. We have to check you out and make sure you're okay for Quidditch!" Coach Jordan smiled cheerfully, offering her hand. Fiona grabbed it, and they slowly made their way to the hospital wing.

"What I want to know," Professor Longbottom began, deadly quiet, "is where all of the damned Aurors were?"

"Damn," Professor Huang spat. "Where in Merlin's name are they?"

"Slaughtered," Harry stated, walking into the courtyard, stone-faced but certainly not dry-eyed. His eyes darted about the courtyard, taking in the dead bodies, before his eyes landed on Albus, alive and well, Harry's shoulders noticeably relaxing. "As well as a couple of the students sealed into their classroom."

Professor Pucey inhaled sharply, looking straight at Rose and Scorpius.

"It appears..." Harry gulped. "That Flint was not alone. Something or someone else attacked, and two of the designated Aurors are missing. The rest died defending the children, though most of the students are physically unharmed. Traumatized? Probably."

McGonagall was shaking her head, her knees weakening. "The children," she whispered, "Merlin save us. The poor children," she sobbed, collapsing onto the floor, Harry and Neville barely catching her.

"How on Earth did he get in?" Professor Pucey asked, gripping her wand so tightly that Ara worried it might snap.

"We don't know," Harry frowned, motioning for his other gathered Aurors to begin cleaning up the disaster and bring the injured to the hospital wing. "But we will find out."

* * *

"Ara!" Alex shrieked, grabbing her daughter and wrapping her arms around her. "Are you okay? Merlin, is Scorp okay?"

"Mom!" Ara cried tearfully. "We're okay. Albus and Rose, too, though we've all been scratched up pretty badly. Dad!" she shouted as Blaise came into view, his jaw clenched and eyebrows scrunched in worry.

"Ara, my Ara. You're fine, you're fine," he reassured her and himself, hugging his daughter tightly.

All of the parents were allowed to visit, McGonagall cancelling the next two weeks of school for investigations and family reunions. Most opted to bring their students home, all concerned about their children's safety. There were far too many funerals to attend.

"Thank Merlin," Hermione sighed as she clutched Rose tightly.

Draco and Scorpius embraced, while Albus spoke in low tones with his parents, side by side with James.

"Are you all packed? Got your luggage and everything?" Alex asked the kids.

"Yes," Scorp answered. Ara nodded, too.

"Rose?" Alex asked. Rose looked at her, confused.

"Yes, why?"

"We're staying with the Zabinis for a few weeks," Hermione explained. At Rose's confused look, Hermione continued. "They insisted we stay somewhere with older, better wards. Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny are out of their minds with this investigation, and Uncle Blaise and Aunt Alex have plenty of room within Zabini Manor. The wards, so far, have succeeded. So we'll be staying with them. That okay with you?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Perfect. I spend more time in the presence of Scorpius Malfoy."

"I thought you guys were friends?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Rose said simply. Hermione looked confusedly over at Draco, who caught her eye and shrugged.

"All right, let's all go," Blaise announced, displaying a long pipette tube, at which most everyone (besides Alex and Draco) looked weirdly.

"It's just a portkey, all right?" Blaise sighed. Alex snickered behind his back, knowing he had just lost their bet about wizards knowing anything about biological technique equipment. Blaise threw a glare back in her general direction.

"Why is Potter joining us?" Draco scowled as Harry grabbed onto the pipette tube.

"Because we need to discuss some things," Hermione snapped, just before the portkey brought them into Zabini Manor, appearing in the foyer.

"Ara, go and get Rose and Scorp settled in, would you?" Alex asked lightly as she led Hermione and Draco to theirs. "Blaise, keep the others entertained."

"Yes ma'am," Blaise saluted his wife.

"You'll still occupy the black and silver room," Alex asked, opening the door.

"If that's all right with you," Draco nodded, throwing in some more luggage he had snuck out of the Manor.

"Hermione, what room would you like?" Alex asked, opening all the guest rooms down the hallway. "Just peek into one, and see whatever fits your fancy."

Hermione looked at Alex and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, any of them would be fine, Alex."

"Any particular color scheme?" Alex persisted.

"I don't know," she sighed. "I'm just exhausted."

"Give her the periwinkle room, with the white embellishments," Draco yawned, before turning back to go down to the sitting room.

Hermione's mouth gaped open. Alex rolled her eyes.

"He knows my favorite color," Hermione sputtered.

"The dress you wore to the Yule Ball, wasn't it?" Alex asked as she levitated Hermione's bags into the room next to Draco's.

"Well, yeah, but," Hermione stuttered a bit. "He hated me then!"

"Enough to notice you," Alex pointed out. Hermione fell silent. "Enough Dramione drama, let's get down to get to the bottom of this attack."

Zayden and Hugo had run off, but the rest of the families were gathered and already in a solemn discussion.

"So, we're safe here Zabini?" Harry asked Blaise, who nodded.

"The wards haven't ever been broken in over six hundred years of history. Voldemort couldn't break in even if he wanted to... which he did," Blaise muttered beneath his breath.

"All right," Harry breathed. "So-"

"Who died?" Rose asked. Harry turned sharply to look at her, noting her solemn expression.

"Not many," Harry answered, but Rose cut him short.

"I said, _who_?"

"All but two of the Aurors. Elliot Applesmith and Hollyn Cleveley," Harry gritted out. James flinched, having been one of Hollyn's best friends.

"Lucy? Amy? They're okay?"

"Surprisingly, yes," Harry breathed slowly. "Harper Hopkins was also injured, and we have two Aurors missing. Aaron Dakota, and Natria Crox."

"Who were the Aurors?" Alex asked softly. Harry frowned, struggling not to break down.

"Roydon Calabrese, Thorly McNiall, Marylu Reynell, Isabelle Fairclough, Lilia Ackler, Leo Butcher..." Ginny put her hand on his arm as Harry struggled.

"Sorry," Alex apologized. "Anyone _I_ know?"

"No," Harry said stiffly.

"Dad," Albus piped up. "You know Connor?"

"Connor Kim, the boy who saved Hogwarts?" Ginny asked fondly, nudging her husband.

"What about him?" Draco asked.

"He mentioned to me a little while ago, that Trelawney had said some sort of prophecy, a while back. He apparently figured it out, and thinks it might have had to do with this attack," Albus informed them.

"Do you know what the prophecy was?" Harry asked.

"Yup." Albus took out a scrap piece of parchment from his pocket, and began reading it aloud.

"_As the Scorpio rises with the daughter of light_

_And the badger strips the rose of its thorns,_

_There is a darkness that threatens and will put up a fight_

_But only the black and white warrior can detect it_

_Should the warrior fail, the puzzle is lost_

_And the livelihoods of many will die as the cost,_" Albus finished.

"Scorpio, that's me," Scorp grinned.

"Rose of its thorns, likely, me," Rose deduced.

"Hufflepuff badger," Hermione pointed out, nodding towards Albus.

"And daughter of light," Blaise pointed towards Ara. "Her middle name is Eleanora, which means light."

"What about the black and white warrior?" Alex asked. "That must mean Connor, but why black and white?"

"His patronus is a panda," James said sullenly from his corner, where he was grieving over Hollyn. "Black and white."

"So what was the puzzle?" Draco asked.

Ara's eyes widened. "No wonder!" she exclaimed.

"What?" the adults all asked at once.

"When Connor was hitting Flint, he had to go through a series of spells. Flint's shield was flashing all these different colors and such, and he kept on repeating these spells, even though sometimes they worked or didn't work. At first, I thought he was just being random, but he kept on repeating them in a particular order _before_ the shield would flash a different color just after he finished repeating a sequence. He must've figured out that you needed a certain combination of spells to break Flint's shield!" Ara explained quickly.

Scorp's eyes widened. "You're right. You're bloody right."

"Interesting," Harry mumbled as he took a note of it. "Anyone have any idea how Flint got in?" Harry's question was followed by complete and utter silence. He looked at Hermione, who shrugged.

"Can't be the vanishing cabinet, since that was destroyed after... Crabbe," Hermione ended awkwardly, glancing at Draco.

"The Room of Requirement repaired itself, didn't it?" Blaise asked.

"Yes," James answered from his corner, and then retreated back into a ball. Ginny hugged her son fiercely, patting his back as the discussion continued.

"What's to stop anyone from going in there and needing a way in for Flint?" Blaise suggested.

"But, did he come from that level?" Alex asked. "How did Flint progress through Hogwarts, does anyone know? Maybe we can retrace his path back to where he first got into Hogwarts."

"McGonagall said that the wards just went off in general, from all directions," Hermione told them. "It's odd, because the magic wouldn't just _do_ that. It's supposed to be able to pinpoint the exact origin of breakage."

"Someone planned this out," Draco stated. Harry nodded.

"For once, I'd have to agree with you, Malfoy," Harry shuddered a bit, while the rest of the adults rolled their eyes.

"Uncle Harry," Ara started. "You might want to check in on a few of the students. Maybe they're being threatened, or their families are somehow involved."

"Any ideas of students in particular?" Harry asked.

"Iridia von Loisson. Ridiculously mean and defensive." Rose grit her teeth.

"Rose," Hermione began sternly. "Just because someone's mean doesn't mean that they're colluding with Death Eaters."

"I don't think Rose is completely wrong on checking her out, though," Ara said in Rose's defence. "In the beginning of the year, she seemed super defensive, as if she was constantly being attacked. Maybe she's been threatened, or abused?" Ara asked. Harry scribbled down a note.

"Others?" Harry asked.

"Caymen Kwasney," Ara said, without hesitation.

"What?" James shot up, furious. "You've met Caymen! He's nothing like that!"

"You can't deny that he's sneaky," Scorp pointed out.

"He's just a prankster!" James bellowed.

"James, take it easy!" Albus attempted to calm his brother down.

"The only reason why I'm suggesting him, is that I've seen him sneaking around the Room of Requirement before," Ara told James simply. "If he's got nothing to hide, then an investigation or quick interview won't hurt, will it?"

James grumbled, and sat back into his chair.

"Gavin Finnegan," Scorp suddenly remembered. "Dad, he was _weird_. He had the mask, perfected. Like, _adult_ perfected."

Draco frowned, as Harry looked expectantly at Draco. "What does he mean by _the mask_?" Harry asked.

"It's a thing in the pureblood community," Alex explained. "Kids learn to read the eyes and subtleties in a mask that deciphers the true emotion behind it. Younger children don't really master the art of the mask extremely well, so it's odd that he's got it down perfectly. Finnegan isn't pureblood by a long shot."

"So what?" Ginny asked, confused.

"So," Hermione explained slowly. "Why does Gavin Finnegan have a perfect, deadened, pureblood mask when he's not even remotely close to the pureblood community? What need does he have for the mask?"

"Gotcha," Harry noted.

"Any connection between the missing Aurors?" Alex asked. "Aaron and Natria, wasn't it?"

Harry frowned, rolling his quill between his fingertips. "Not that I know of. They've only ever been coworkers, never friends, never dates, nothing more."

"Anyone they might have known in common?" Blaise asked.

"No one in particular that comes to mind," Harry answered.

"Why is Aaron Dakota familiar to me?" Ginny asked, looking to Harry.

"Well, you've probably met him once or twice at the various parties and meetings you've come to," Harry suggested.

"Maybe," Ginny speculated.

After a long discussion that led nowhere further, the kids were put to bed and the Potters departed. Hermione, needing a breath of fresh air, opened the vast glass doors to the outdoor patio, where someone else had apparently had the same idea.

"Draco," Hermione said softly, joining him on the rail looking out towards the gardens. He nodded, in acknowledgement.

"How've you been holding up?" Hermione asked.

"It's odd, actually," he sighed. "It's weird, without Tori. But it's not... sad," he tried, looking out into the distance.

"You had closure," Hermione nodded, understanding.

"Something like that," Draco sighed.

They fell into a companionable silence, listening to the water fountains trickling around them.

Half an hour passed by, like that. The two of them, silent, lost within their own thoughts.

"Draco?" Hermione asked.

"Yes?"

"After this is all over, when everything... settles down... where would you like us to be?"

Draco stared up to the night sky, squinting a little as he mulled over her question, and how to answer it.

"More than we are now, but I've always wanted that."

"How far are you willing to go?"

He turned to her, finding those warm brown eyes.

"How far are you willing?" he murmured.

Hermione searched those silver eyes, the ones that grey stormy with passion, or frozen with malice. The ones that softened and melted when they looked at her, so very long ago. The same ones that swirled with pain when they met hers now.

They had tired eyes, Draco and Hermione. Eyes that had seen too much, cried too much, and dried too much. Eyes that mirrored the hearts that beat beneath them.

Part of Hermione cowered at the decision she was about to make, wanting to hide behind the safety of Normal. But the other part, the louder voice in Hermione's head, yearned for Draco. She missed Draco, terribly. She really couldn't live without him.

"However far you want to take me," she answered firmly.

Draco's eyes slightly widened at the passion held behind her words. She was sure, for once. And she wanted it, too.

"Draco," Hermione said softly, covering his hand on the rail. "I will fight for us, this time. Last time, I made the mistake of running away. This time around, _this _time, I will not let you go, so long as you'll have me."

"Always and forever," he whispered.

They smiled against each other's lips, finally finding their way home again.

* * *

_Death Eater Riots in France, Connection to Hogwarts Massacre? - The Daily Prophet, January 2014_

_In late August, French Minister of Magic, Arnaud Moreau of France's Liberal Politcal Party, passed a series of legislative measures in hopes to continue integration of the les intouchables and those of pur sang. However, this sparked a series of riots and protests amongst former members of Tom Riddle's terrorist group, called the Death Eaters. On September 1st, 2013, the same day that Marcus Flint brutally attacked families at King's Cross Station, riots began in France. The first major storming of the French Ministry of Magic occurred, where Moreau's life was seriously threatened. The riot has cost the French Ministry of Magic fifteen million Courrones, or 13.5 million galleons in property damage._

_However, this was just the beginning of several violent attacks on the French Ministry, including the kidnapping of Arnaud Moreau's daughter, Sabine Moreau. To the French public, no ransom deal has been communicated to the French Ministry, when in actuality, Sabine Moreau's life hangs by a mere thread - whether her father will repeal the integration legislation. The Daily Prophet must commend the Moreau family's courage, it does not appear that Moreau is taking any steps to appease the Death Eater terrorists. However, investigations have been made, and leads are bringing them closer and closer to Sabine Moreau._

_Christina Rivers, former famous quidditch player for the Dragon Daredevils, the United States' winner of the North American Quidditch Cup, moved to France recently and took up a job in the French Ministry's equivalent of the Auror Department. In an interview, she was unable to speak much of the details of the current investigation, but promised that Sabine Moreau was safe for the time being. "We have been collaborating closely with the British Ministry of Magic in attempts to facilitate investigations into connections between Death Eater activity in both France and England. We are doing our very best to track down Sabine Moreau's captors, and hopefully she will be returned to us safely," Rivers said about the collaboration between our governments.. So far, the death toll from the Death Eater attacks has reached sixty-seven French citizens, and thirteen unidentified victims._

_The Hogwarts Massacre that took place on January 17th was again, conducted by Marcus Flint. Oddly, he does not seem to be acting independently anymore. Investigations are currently underway to discover how Flint managed to overcome Hogwarts' impressive wards. While Marcus Flint was battling several of the professors, it appears that three cloaked wizards or witches murdered six of eight Aurors designated to protect the school. Three students were injured, and two students were killed in the crossfire. Their names have been withheld due to their status as minors. The two missing Aurors, Natria Crox and Aaron Dakota, have been put up on the top of Britain's Missing Persons List._

_Who is the monster behind these attacks? It is one thing to storm a Ministry, but to actively seek out and murder children is beyond the Daily Prophet's comprehension. We can only hope for the safety and security of all and that Sabine Moreau and the other missing Aurors will be returned to their families safely._

_The British Ministry of Magic and the French MoM ask the public to be aware of their surroundings and report any suspicious behavior to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

**AN: Yay! Dramione is finally happening. FINALLY, I know, don't kill me for taking so long. Netherlands and Bahamas - you guys rock! Surprisingly, I hit a bout of writer's block with this chapter, so I apologize for the slightly worse quality. I hope I did the attack justice. So yes! Flint attacked Hogwarts! That's actually what I had been hoping to do all along, so we're finally getting things done here. Time for the investigations - so I want to hear from you guys. Who do you think broke Flint out of Azkaban? Who do you think let him into Hogwarts? Who do you think is behind the attacks in France? What do you think happened to the missing Aurors? REVIEW! If you want to read more of my work, go check out The Inevitability of Betrayal by Souloflead. Souloflead, Snape'sPaige394, and I all cowrite it - and honestly, it's _awesome_. Please, don't be put off by the dark Hermione, I promise you that in the end, everything will be worth it. So, SPECULATE BELOW, and check that story out!  
**


End file.
